


Dawn of a New Day

by Ursula



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Drama, First Time, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-18
Updated: 2005-07-18
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 49,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursula/pseuds/Ursula
Summary: After the aliens are defeated, a new threat arises. A virus causes the dead to rise and seek to devour and infect the living. Mulder and Krycek unite as partners as they seek to rescue Mulder's son and find a vaccine.





	Dawn of a New Day

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Title: Dawn of a New Day

Author/Pseudonym: Ursula

Fandom: X-Files crossover with the Dawn of the Dead

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek (Skinner/Krycek interludes)

Rating: Adult Slash sexual situations, language, violence, morbid scenes, and other fun stuff

Status: Finished Stand alone

Date Posted: 07-18-05 

Archive: FHSA, DIB, FONXL, WOMB, Gossamer

E-mail address for feedback: Fan4Richie or Ursula4X@aol.com

Classification: Crossover Dawn of the Dead movie 

Series/Sequel: Is this story part of a series: No

Web Site: http://www.fhsarchive.com/stories/Ursula.html

Disclaimers: No profit, fan fiction for fun

Notes: I posted a wild idea and Mort said she liked it. So this one is for Mort.

Flintstriker beta read twice, quite the task considering the length of the story. Thank you so much.

Warnings: Lot and lots of carnage, morbid stuff, character death although never Mulder, Skinner, or Krycek. I've killed off Scully again. Sorry.

Time Frame: Alternate reality, but also post series and post apocalypse

 

 

When I arrived at my office, Walter Skinner was waiting for me with a frown on his face, a box of files, and a disc ready to insert in my computer. Putting my coffee down, I nodded and said, "Am I fired again or do you have work for me?"

 

"The shit is hitting the fan again," Walter said. "Scully answered her cell phone immediately. What's wrong with yours?"

 

"I must have bumped it," I explained. "It was in manner mode. I was over at the Gunmen's."

 

"Scully is examining the victims," Skinner said.

 

"Victims?" I said, picking up one of the folders. "Shit," I said, looking at full color montages of some of the most gruesome corpses I had ever seen. "Some kind of animals?" The victims had definitely been partially eaten.

 

"The perpetrators were allegedly human, but they seemed deranged," Walter replied. "The Center for Disease Control and the military contained the outbreak but the survivors of the attack are dying. Scully is doing autopsies now."

 

"If CDC is on it, why involve Scully?" 

 

"Because the powers that be want to know if there is any extraterrestrial angle to the situation." 

 

"Not one with which I'm familiar," I replied, flipping through the pictures again.

 

"Is Scully working here?" I asked. "I should see what she thinks."

 

"They set up a lab at Quantico," Walter replied. "I'll drive you. I'm curious about why they're pulling us in too. I don't know if I buy the explanation they gave."

 

OooOooO

 

My recent life felt like I was living in a loop of memory. It was hard to believe that a year ago I was on the run from a death sentence, Scully at my side like some primly Catholic version of Bonnie to my Clyde.

 

Meanwhile, Walter Skinner, our former boss, was only two steps away from the same fate as Scully and me, having engineered and taken part in my escape.

 

Somehow or other, incredibly damaging information started to fall into Skinner's hands. At the same time, Alex Krycek's ghost whispered sweet nothings into my ears, allowing me to find and destroy some of the Project's most horrific secrets. We took them down. Kersh turned on the project in the end, testifying against them. 

 

It should have left us back to the same scenario that my father - both of my fathers, the man who was married to my mother and listed on my birth certificate and the other man who contributed his sperm and whom my mother both loved and hated - faced. Earth had been invaded. The aliens weren't cuddly or friendly. Despite the genetic heritage we somehow shared, our invaders saw us as nothing more than potential slaves and incubators for their deadly offspring.

 

Then the earth rose up against the aliens. 

 

I have tried to find another explanation for what happened, but, as far as I can tell, no one engineered the increased volcanic activity that spewed magnetite into the air. It seems that the mineral was poison not only to the super soldiers, but to the majority of the alien life forms. I counted myself lucky that whatever alien elements in my genome were not sufficient to kill me when I was exposed.

 

Certain areas of the planet that were high in magnetite were instantly freed of alien life forms, including much of the United States, Russia, South Africa, and Germany. Other areas, far from volcanic activity, were infested, but we reduced the numbers of the invaders by skillful and unauthorized raids. There was enough magnetite in the air to slowly poison the rest of the aliens. The aliens did not seem to be interested in trying again. The numbers of unresolved UFO sightings decreased to nothing. The cases that I occasionally get as sightings I am able to close quickly as weather balloons, swamp gas, or hallucinations. 

 

The solution wasn't free of cost. Thousands of lives were lost in the eruptions despite warnings from seismologists. More were lost in the mop up operations. Finally, the wave of activities subsided and gradually life returned to as normal as it would ever be.

 

I was exonerated, restored to my place in the FBI along with Scully. I even had my X-Files returned to me, this time with a budget, a team of agents, and some degree of respect.

 

My life went from fairy tale euphoria to ennui in a span of a few weeks. Sadly, so did my romance with Scully. We loved each other. We were united by a loyalty forged out of adversity. We even had a child in common. We had petitioned to get William back. In our case, justice moved swiftly, a bone to what Scully and I had been through.

 

Scully and I had granted William’s adoptive parents visitation, my idea. I felt guilty for what we did to Mark and Alice Van de Kamp. They had moved to Washington State to a farm near a small town named Sequim. Western Washington remained a thriving area, despite the effects of several active volcanoes, and was clear of any remaining aliens because of that. Scully and I felt safe in letting William visit the Van de Kamps and William enjoyed being spoiled by two sets of parents. God knows, I wouldn't deny my son having as much love as possible. Maybe he would grow up to be less fucked up than I am. One can hope.

 

The small house with the securely fenced yard that we had purchased in the first glow of our brief essay into family life was Scully's now. I had returned to my old apartment, increasing my feeling that I had stepped back into my past. I still spend a great deal of time with William, trying to be warm, loving, and all the things a father should be. It isn’t easy. I'm not a nice person although I try to be a good one. Scully and I don't argue, at least, not much more than we always did. We work together as well as we ever did. I kept hoping for a while that she would give me buddy fucks, but that wasn't on her agenda. I have the feeling she's looking for Mr. Right. I even hope she finds him. How’s that for nice?

 

The emptiness I felt in my new life was assuaged by a new self indulgence. I spent a fair amount of time fucking whoever appealed to me. My bed is seldom empty, but I don't let any of my play mates get close. I'm honest with my female bed mates about being bisexual. Some of them slap my face and leave. A few of the kinky ones propose threesomes. Hell, I tried it once and my lovers ran off together, but no big loss. I'm not looking for love anymore, if I ever was.

 

OooOooO

My internal monologue was interrupted by Skinner. He jerked to one side of the road and then the other, uttering a sharp curse. "What the fuck is going on?"

 

The gates of Quantico were down. I could hear gunfire erupting from inside. In the distance, I heard screams.

 

"Scully," I shouted. 

 

"We'll get to her," Skinner said.

 

But we didn't. We arrived at the autopsy room and what was left of her was not recognizable except by scraps of her red hair and one small white hand, still wearing her wedding ring. I wanted to be wrong, but my guts told me it was my partner.

 

I didn't have time to mourn. There was a noise and I looked up to see a shambling monstrous figure lurching toward Walter. I shot, spinning the thing around. Walter spun around too and then scrambled backwards, drawing his weapon. His shot hit dead center to the forehead, jarring me out of my fugue of grief as I remembered another such shot.

 

It took both of us to drive the invasion of these zombie figures back far enough to shut the door. A quick inspection of the building cleared it of other walking dead people. Walter and I could defend ourselves, but we were trapped here.

 

I took a few moments to gather what remained of Scully. I put her tiny white hand in the autoclave, covering my nose against the stench as it burned. Her wedding ring I put in my pocket, all that remained of our life together. In my loss, I hated the self indulgence that had parted us. Surely I could have compromised. Surely I could have experienced my life with her as less confining, less devoid of interest to me? I backed up until I hit the wall, slid down it, and sat with my hands covering my face.

 

I heard a radio playing, but my grief drowned out the words until Walter's hand gripped my shoulder. "Snap out of it!" Walter's gruff voice shouted. "We have to make this place defensible."

 

I let Walter pull me to my feet and followed his lead, upending tables against the window and shoving file cabinets to brace them.

 

Gradually, my fugue lifted. The words from the broadcast penetrated. "We are now advising you to go to the nearest rescue station. Rescue stations...District of Columbia Public Library, Banneker Senior High School, Reed Elementary School, Chevy Chase Community Center..."

 

The voices droned on. After trying the land line and finding it didn't work, Walter struggled with his cell phone, trying to reach anyone at the Hoover. I stood next to him, listening to the sounds outside, faraway screams, gunshots, and sounds of things crashing.

 

Kim's voice responded after several tries. She sounded frantic and said, "Yes, Sir, we're being evacuated to Andrews Air Force Base. Where are you?"

 

"Still at Quantico. Scully's dead. Mulder and I are in her lab. We're safe for now, but we can't get out. We're surrounded by some sort of creatures...a new kind of super soldiers?"

 

"I'll send someone," Kim said. "Shoot them in the head, Sir. That's what they said to do."

 

The call was lost and Walter could not get it back. We sat next to each other, listening to the radio. 

 

"Do not try to flee the area. Do not try to reach loved ones. Please proceed to an emergency shelter if you can safely do so. If you are trapped in your house or work place, block all windows and doors. If possible, retreat to the second story, attic, or roof of your dwelling. Fill all possible containers with water, move all non perishable food to the highest level of your home. Remove staircases if possible."

 

“William," I gasped. "Let me borrow your cell phone."

 

When I tried to call the Van de Kamps, there was no signal. A 'no service' message scrolled across the screen. "Fuck!"

 

Walter took it back, tried for a signal, and sighed, putting the phone back in his pocket. He said, "We'll try again later."

 

I heard breaking glass. They hadn’t pushed past the barrier yet, but I could hear an eerie moaning chorus from outside. One of the file cabinets moved.

 

"Let's go on the roof," Walter said. He shoved an extra gun and some rounds in my hands. I felt a wave of sickness. It was either Scully's gun or that of some other FBI agent that died here. 

 

I turned to put the gun on a counter, wanting to sit down again and give in to my grief and fear.

 

Walter's voice snapped me out of my despair. "Get off your pity pot, Mulder. The world has fucking gone mad. Hell, maybe it's the time of revelations and the dead have woken. Scully's dead, but both of us have families that need our help. I hope."

 

"First we have to get out of here," I said. 

 

"There's that," Walter agreed. "Let's head for the roof and do some recognizance."

 

Checking the computer, we found floor plans showing a maintenance ladder we could get to. Shutting the door behind us, we climbed up the ladder and up to the roof.

 

The roof top was flat. We could walk to the edge and observe much of the campus. Gunfire, a normal background noise for here, erupted constantly. The screams that occasionally drifted our way were not normal. As well armed as Quantico was, the glass corridors had not been very defensible. Survivors like us were holed up in older parts of the academy, the areas that had solid walls instead of glass. I saw some other people on a nearby roof. They waved wildly and pointed to the sky.

 

Helicopters beat their way over us. Some of them pursued the invading creatures like angry bees, ruthlessly dropping enough explosives to incinerate them. A helicopter landed on the roof, men in decontamination suits emerged. They held guns to keep us at bay.

 

"Injuries? Bites" the crisp voice asked.

 

"No, we're okay," I answered.

 

"Strip," the man said.

 

"What?" 

 

"Strip," the man said. "We don't take anyone who has been infected and we're not taking anyone's word for it."

 

Resentfully, I took off my suit, standing there feeling ridiculous and vulnerable as I was inspected. Skinner and I both passed and were allowed to dress again. Our saviors carried us back to Andrew's Air Force Base, where the president had already been evacuated. Massive construction was going on around the base, including a deep trench. Miles of barbed wire surrounded the base and guard towers were everywhere. 

 

OooOooO

 

After spending the day helping to construct defenses, I sat in one of the barracks with Walter, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to keep flashes of what remained of Scully out of my mind. It didn't take long for me to realize I had been saved because of Walter. The director had been attending an interment when the dead rose. He had been eaten. Walter was the more senior of the surviving assistant directors and because of his supervision of the X-Files, he was thought to have a large potential value to the defense. Besides, he had combat experience, no matter how long ago.

 

"Let me try your phone again."

 

Walter handed me his cell phone. This time it worked. I punched in the numbers to the Van de Kamps and was relieved to hear Mark's voice.

 

"Mulder?" William's former adoptive father said.

 

"Yeah," I said. "Mark, what's happening there?"

 

"The same thing that has been happening everywhere," Mark replied. "William's okay. We're all okay for now. This is the second outbreak here. They said it was over, but I didn't trust them. Some friends and I fortified our farms. We can hold out, but we could use some help. Get here, Mulder. Help defend your son."

 

The call faded out and I couldn't get another connection, but Mark's words rang in my ears.

 

From his lips to God's ears...

 

Not that I believed in God, but I do believe in the devil. He walks.

 

***Six months after the outbreak***

 

I told no one, not even Walter. I knew Skinner would think me insane. He has been able to find out that his family has survived. His brothers are tough, self-reliant men who acted quickly. He is content that they are safe and they support Walter staying here at Andrews, defending the president. Personally, I don't understand why everyone thinks that is so important. There is hardly a country left. There are isolated pockets of survivors in most places. There are some larger concentrations such as this base. Otherwise, we are in the same boat as the rest of the world. 

 

Each day begins the same around here. I've joined outside parties as often as Walter will let me, hoping for some idea to occur to me that will allow me to escape and join my son. We foray out and we slaughter ... if one can slaughter what is already dead. We returned hundreds of zombies to the grave. We burn them to help prevent the spread of contamination even though we are not sure if the disease can pass by any other means than a bite from one of the dead. When we return, medical officers check us carefully. We take no chances. Anyone who is bitten is executed swiftly and cremated. It would be no mercy to allow the fever to consume their bodies and mind until nothing is left but a corpse, animated by a virus able to stimulate dead nerves and brain stem.

 

It hasn't bothered me for weeks, shooting the things. At first, especially when I spotted newly dead zombies, I was afraid I was shooting a living person. However, I'm over that. It's a task, a gruesome, never ending task. Hopeless, too. More keep coming. The virus has spawned vast armies of them. With the sporadic nature of communications, survivors didn't know how to defend themselves and didn't know enough to immediately dispose of the dead before they rise.

 

Even now, months after the first outbreaks, people conceal bites and harbor the dying until it's too late. A single Dead person can infect a dozen humans. We have no cure. A bite means death and worse. I don't understand it. I would have shot Scully myself rather than have her rise as the Dead.

 

Today I was careless, forging ahead of my squad. It was eerie walking through the Smithsonian and seeing no living soul. A patrol had heard gunfire from inside the American History Museum. We had been dispatched to check on the situation. The president was afraid that the museum was being looted. He thought it was important that the Smithsonian's collections be preserved for posterity. I thought it was bullshit, but I was glad to get out. I hated being confined to Andrews.

 

We went in with the heavier weapons in front. It took discipline to fire carefully, hitting the heads of the Dead. The more aggressive Dead died first, leaving the shamblers to be picked off by the less skilled shooters. I had started in the lower ranks, but my hatred had made me the sharpshooter that years of practice in the FBI had failed to do.

 

Afterwards, we searched in small squads, looking for both the living and any stray zombies. Sometimes, zombies trapped themselves in small rooms. They would stay put until the smell of human flesh awakened their hunger enough for them to attack. 

 

This time, I thought I saw something moving and yelled for my squad to follow. However, they had gone in the opposite direction. 

 

Fuck.

 

I back peddled and ....

 

No.

 

No. This I did not want to see. So far, I had been lucky. I had not seen anyone I knew in life as a zombie. I hesitated, froze. Alex looked beautiful, not the way the zombies were supposed to look. He had an ethereal pale tint to his skin and his eyes glowed hugely in the dusk of the corridor. I steeled my nerves to shoot when his husky voice teased out of him. 

 

"Mulder, it's me. Didn't Skinner tell you?" Krycek said.

 

The Dead don't talk but I still kept my machine gun aimed at Alex.

 

"Mulder, you stupid fuck, I'm not a zombie," Krycek said.

 

"How?" I asked.

 

"Made a deal with Skinner," Krycek said. "It was believable. After the nanos, he had a lot of motivation to kill me, but more motivation to find out how to get rid of his little problem. He's free. I'm free. We're all happy."

 

"I wasn't happy," I said. Fucking scene gave me nightmares, especially after Alex's sweet ghost showed up, guiding me like Yoda, only a hell of a lot cuter.

 

"Could have fooled me," Krycek said. "Oh, fucking shit, duck, Mulder!"

 

And here it was. Something that said how it always was between us. Every instinct in my body said obey him even as my brain threw a fit, telling me the rat bastard was trying to kill me.

 

I ducked. My gut won. My heart won.

 

Alex aimed his machine gun at several of the walking Dead. More were coming. He grabbed my arm, slammed open a metal panel in the wall, and pulled me inside an elevator shaft. "I think we need to get out of here," Alex said. "We can talk later."

 

I don't know where the power came from to operate the elevator. I didn't know where we were going. What I did know is that every time Krycek showed up in my life, everything changed. As fucked as the current situation is, that had to be a good thing. 

 

Didn't it?

 

OooOooO

 

The elevator brought us down to a corridor and then to a windowless room. It was comfortable enough, a little nest for a rat on the run, with a bed, a sofa, a small kitchen, and a lot of books. 

 

"You been living here?" I asked.

 

"Yeah.”

 

"Anyone else?"

 

“No. During the alien war, I helped my friend make this place. He worked here, doing research in the basement. Hell, there are rooms down here where no one has entered for years. I told him if anything happened, stay here. I would come and get him or come and join him. I came as soon as I could, but he wasn't here. I went up to look, but there were too many of the Dead. I had to hide again."

 

"Damn, well, you were up enough to be spotted. I'm going to be very pissed at you if any of my men get hurt trying to save your sorry ass.” 

 

"The way you watch my ass, I don't think you ever thought it was sorry. Hold on, the PA system is still working. Let your men know that you're safe and there's no one to rescue."

 

"Thanks, Alex," I said, quickly moving to the speaker. "This is Mulder. I've found the man that was sighted. He's safe. I'm safe. Get the hell out of here. I'll meet you at the Hybrid."

 

The Hybrid was a remodeled vehicle, more like a tank than an all terrain vehicle. It boasted armored windows and immense power, enough to take it over the bodies of the living dead no matter how they piled up. It knocked them aside like a snow plow of the Dead.

 

"Is it going to be okay between you and Walter if I bring you back with me?" I asked.

 

"He won't object," Alex said. "We settled all of our old business. Besides, Walter is a soldier. He keeps his mind on business and doesn’t waste energy on personal vendettas."

 

"Unlike me," I said.

 

"Very unlike you," Alex said, smiling at me as if to take the sting away.

 

I stared at Alex a moment and then said, "I'm sorry about your friend."

 

Alex nodded and I saw his eyes dart away to the wall of books. "He was a good man, a gentle intelligent man. I'll miss him."

 

"I'm glad that you're alive," I said. "I missed you. Like you miss a toothache, you know, when it stops aching."

 

"Bullshit, Mulder, you missed me because we always had something." Without letting me argue, Alex said, "We better take a different elevator up. All of our hungry friends are going to be waiting for us."

 

"Lead the way," I said, remembering when ghostly Alex led me to safety. How the hell had he pulled that stunt anyway?

 

"Wait," Alex said, his eyes sliding away from my gaze.

 

"What?"

 

"You going to control yourself?" 

 

"Why will I need to?" 

 

"You ever think how this could have happened? Dead people coming to life?" 

 

"Yes, like everyone else, there are times when I can think of nothing else. What do you know?"

 

"It was one of his ideas," Alex said. "Your father's weird ideas."

 

By father, I knew Alex didn't mean Bill Mulder. He was talking about Spender, the poisonous spider who spun constant webs of deceit in our lives.

 

"It was a by-product of the research to create super soldiers," Alex said. "One of the early failures died, but continued to walk around. Most of the old men were horrified and wanted it destroyed, but Spender wanted to study the poor bastard. He should have known better, especially when the creature's bites proved capable of killing and infecting the living. Spender saw the Dead as the last ditch effort to wage war with the aliens. He had scientists working on a vaccine to prevent the infection. They succeeded, but the bastards let someone infected get loose."

 

"How do you know all this?" I asked.

 

"One of my spies told me about the disease and I headed over to check it out. I barely got out with my life." 

 

A sardonic smile crossed Alex's face. "Never trust a rat in a trap. I escaped, taking some of the vaccine with me. I have enough to vaccinate a few people. I'm going to vaccinate you."

 

I should have refused. What right did I have to be safe from the horror of becoming the living dead when the rest of our people were at risk? I didn't have the moral courage to refuse. I hated the things, woke myself at night with nightmares of being bitten and becoming one of them. 

 

"This hurts," Alex warned me. 

 

"I can take it," I said, all bravado in front of Alex. My ex-partner always had that effect upon me. Some guys posture in front of a beautiful woman; I save my best for a certain frustrating enigma of a man.

 

I took it...with a loud yelp when the vaccine burned into my veins. Alex steadied me, his eyes blinking in sympathy. 

 

"Sorry, I warned you." 

 

I still felt like punching him. "It still won't help me if they tear me to pieces," I pointed out.

 

"I know," he shrugged. "I couldn't bear to see you like that. You are the most alive person I have ever known."

 

Shit, that was hitting below the belt. Alex was never supposed to say why he helped me. A little dishonesty goes a long way in some relationships.

 

"Did your scientists have anything that would put the dead back in the ground?" 

 

"They were working on it," Alex said. "All I know for sure is that they were pulled off the project when Spender died. Somehow the disease spread. For a disease that spreads by direct transmission, it spreads rapidly because the Dead craving human flesh. Spender must be laughing at us in hell."

 

"Where is this lab?" I asked. Getting to my son could wait if I had a chance to make the world a safe place for him to grow up. I had to trust Mark De Kamp to protect William.

 

"It's on a small private island in the San Juans.” It was hoped that would keep the plague isolated. The damn things can't swim and they deteriorate rapidly in the water. But somehow the disease got loose. Someone must have gone ashore after being infected. Fuckers. Too many ideas and too little sense."

 

"We need to go find that lab." 

 

"I know. Much as I've been putting it off. The aliens have gone. We were supposed to have a real life now. This sucks."

 

Alex's final words made me laugh. What a way to sum up such a disaster. 

 

I said, "We better get going. I don't want any of my men to come looking for me."

 

It was an irony how good we were together. I had noticed it from the beginning, from the Cole case. From the moment the first gun shot was heard, we had moved, acted as if connected by an invisible thread. Now we fought our way past the legions of the dead with a startling precision. I had forgotten what a good shot Alex was. He was as deadly and precise as he was the first time I ever saw him shoot, back when he was my partner and we went to the firing range together.

 

A stutter of gunshots sounded. The Dead fell to Alex's bullets instantly. He didn't hesitate, didn't let it bother him. So what if that animated corpse had once been a child ...that one a grandmother? They were all monsters now, driven only by hunger. They never rested. They were hungry, but could live on without nourishment. When they could not sense living humans, they milled aimlessly, occasionally devouring insects, but never pursuing any other warm blooded prey other than humans. 

 

"Pay attention, Mulder," Alex snarled as one of the Dead lunged too near. "Stop thinking. Shoot."

 

Thank you very much, Alex. Thanks a lot. I tried to disengage, wondering how Alex kept his feelings locked inside like that; then I wondered if he had any feelings. In a way, Alex was like them, the Dead. He was single minded about his survival, doing anything he had to do to keep alive. I should count myself lucky that somehow I was part of Alex's sense of well being. Otherwise, I might well be lunch.

 

OooOooO

 

More and more of the Dead seemed to be coming after us. Even if the living were enclosed in an airtight container, the Dead will flock to them, beating their senseless flesh against the walls. We almost lost our volunteer finding that out. It took a wall of fire and heavily armed tanks to rescue him from the enclosure. His oxygen nearly ran out before we finally were able to pick him back up with a fork lift, the Dead clinging to the sides until steady fire power shattered the brain stems beyond the ability of the virus to restore.

 

Alex tugged on my arm. "Come on. In here! I know a shortcut. And stop thinking!" 

 

Looks like that was going to be a steady refrain in our relationship. And here I used to think that I was tired of people telling me to look before I leaped.

 

Alex jerked me into the room hard enough to make my elbow give a snapping sound. Or maybe that was the teeth of the huge Dead man that lunged for my throat. In life, the man must have been ponderous and ill. He might have been so obese that he had been helpless to move to safety. His bald head dangled to one side from the huge wound in his throat. His massive abdomen with fold after fold of flesh had gaping bites taken from it. A severed rope of intestine flapped from the wound. 

 

"Did he bite you?" Alex asked after locking the door.

 

"No," I replied, glancing at my SWAT gear to be sure.

 

"Tell your men to meet us by the west wall. We'll take the dumb waiter for the books up and then go out the fire escape. I blocked the stairs above the third level. I thought I might need another escape route at some point."

 

"Good thinking," I said. 

 

Crammed in that small space with Alex, I gave into nerves for a few moments. Alex's arms were around me. I could feel his breath on my neck. I held back the comment I wanted to make. I didn't want him to pull away. We both needed something to hang onto. I kept thinking about the possibility that Alex's plan hadn't worked. Coming out of this cramped cage, we would be canned meat for the Dead.

 

When I saw the pitiful remains of Scully, I thought my life had ended. I thought that since then I had been just going through the motions. I was wrong. I wanted to live. My heart beat faster with the desire to live another hour, another day.

 

The dumb waiter was so loud, if the Dead could hear, they surely heard it moving through the building. 

 

I had seen them achieve unbelievable things. They had little sense of self-preservation. Their primary instinct was to bite, to feed. Even if the frontrunners were crushed by the pressing weight of the Dead shoving from the rear, the sheer mass of them continued to move forward.

 

I thought I heard sounds of breaking wood, the thud of barriers breaking. The Dead would mill, searching, ever searching for the living. Some of them would fall, clumsy, but others would continue, crawling over the fallen, looking for living flesh...for Alex and me.

 

I had to drown out my fears. I could not bear to be helplessly drawn upward, unable to guess whether this apparatus would open to safety or to a hundred questing hands; to the rotting maws of what once had been human.

 

Grabbing Alex, I found his face. My mouth pressed to his as if seeking life giving breath. I fed off him as if in imitation of what I feared. He moaned beneath my assault, returning the kiss. Locked together in the longest and most passionate kiss that I had ever experience, we barely heard the dumb waiter stop until the door was pried open from the outside and a strong pair of hands pulled us both out.

OooOooO

 

"Krycek, I thought I told you to stay away from him," Walter Skinner's voice said.

 

"Walter, I damn near pissed myself," I complained. 

 

"No time for chatter," Walter said, dragging me out of the dumb waiter.

 

"Wait," I said, keeping my hand on Alex, determined to drag him with me. We had unfinished business.

 

"Don't worry," Skinner said, "I wouldn't leave a human here, even one with Krycek's dubious claim to that title."

 

I didn't know whether I resented that because I was suddenly feeling protective of Alex or because I wished I had thought of saying it before Walter.

 

"Come on, Alex," I said, giving his arm a tug. I took a quick breath as I realized I had his left arm. It felt soft and flexible, not the rigid thing I had noticed when we had sparred at my apartment after Alex came back from Russia. "Lucy, you have some splaining to do," I commented.

 

A smirk answered me and then Alex was trotting after us. One of the hummers was waiting outside the building. Surrounding it were legions of the Dead. 

 

"Why did you join this party?" I asked Walter.

 

"You were in trouble," Walter said. "The last thing Scully asked of me was to look after you."

 

"I don't need looking after," I snapped.

 

"Bullshit," Alex and Walter said in unison. I could have sworn that Scully's clear voice chimed in on some ethereal level of existence.

 

Preceding us down the ladder, Walter dropped onto the roof of the hummer. He drew his machine gun and fired, dropping the Dead with machine like precision. He showed no more compunction than Alex. I went next, landing badly and almost falling off the roof into the clutching hands below. Alex caught me before I could fall. 

 

"It looks as if you're reacting to the vaccine," Alex said. He pulled me toward the open hatch and I was pulled to safety. Alex followed and then Walter.

 

"You can use the flame throwers now," Walter said.

 

The hummers were equipped with a number of weapons, including fire throwers with a one hundred and eighty degree radius. Burning is an unpleasant but effective way to move the Dead out of the way. They feel no pain. (I hope they feel no pain.) They lurch into each other, setting clothing and hair on fire. The lucky ones burn cleanly to final rest; others continue to walk after the fire burns out, charred and gruesome corpses.

 

The hummer's treads thump and grind as the Dead fall beneath the wheels. Cleaning the hummers is a punishment detail. I've had that assignment three times already and couldn't eat for days afterwards.

 

Alex sat down next to me, his eyes glaring into Walter's.

 

"We did have an agreement," Walter said.

 

"It's the end of the world," Alex replied. "Or it will be unless you listen to me, Skinner."

 

"It's the end of the world when I listen to you," Skinner shot back. 

 

Alex should have seen that one coming. I waited for him to react, perhaps standing to get in Walter's face and yelling at him as he had done to me when we encountered each other in the raid initiated by his tip-offs.

 

Instead, Alex leaned back on the bench, spreading his legs, his hand draped between his legs, elegant fingers almost touching the bulge of his package. I could see the worn white spots in his jeans, the threads a little bare where his cock strained against the material. Alex's head leaned back. His eyes drooped as if he was half asleep. His mouth went a little slack as if inviting a kiss or possibly even a dick to press into it.

 

Walter stared, turned scarlet, and glared around the hummer, apparently concerned that his men not read this blatant message. 

 

"Knock it off, Krycek," Walter said. He spared me a look and said, "Don't believe him."

 

"I didn't say a word, Walter," Alex said. His voice was sultry, a seductive voice I had seldom heard from him.

 

Watching Walter, I knew one of them was lying and I didn't think it was Alex. I didn't like the way it made me feel. It had never been like that between Alex and me, but I had always felt that all I had to do was crook my finger and Alex's ass would have been mine.

 

"So why did you come back?" Walter said.

 

Alex must have decided to stop playing games. He sat up, closed his legs, and shifted gears as abruptly as if the nymph Alex had never been there. He said, "I came back because I wanted to see if a close friend survived and to meet with you and Mulder. I'll tell you why later when we're alone."

 

"What happened to your friend, Alex?" Walter asked, his voice gentle.

 

"I don't know," Alex said. "I think he tried to get home or went out to get something. The hiding place was intact and I could tell he survived there for at least a few weeks, but he wasn't there. I think they got him, the bastards."

 

"I'm sorry, Alex," Walter said.

 

"Yeah, he wasn't the love of my life or anything, but he was intelligent, gentle. Not part of the project; just a shy, kind man who wanted nothing more out of life than books to read and an occasional visit from someone who cared about him," Alex said.

 

We spent the rest of the trip in silence, staring at each other, each keeping his thoughts to himself.

 

OooOooO

 

I couldn't help looking at Alex in what we called the lobby as we endured the ritual of examination after a mission. Like the rest of us, he was naked. Unlike most of the soldiers, Alex didn’t seem embarrassed. He was aloof during the examination, but shameless. I had seen him naked before when we had been partners and later when we had gone to Russia. It was different now. He was different. Before I had been aware of the attraction I felt towards him, but I would never have acted upon it. When he was my partner, a sexual relationship with a subordinate could have ended my career. That wouldn't have stopped me if I had trusted Alex, but I had never entirely believed his junior agent act. I had feared my own impulses later. I didn't know if I wanted to fuck Alex or kill him or both.

 

"You seem to have acquired a new arm," I said. "I never knew you were part starfish."

 

"It was gift for services rendered," Alex said as he was given the okay to dress. "The rebels insisted that I would be a more effective operative with two arms. Who was I to refuse?"

 

"Right," I said. "You can get dressed now unless you want to parade around here nude."

 

For an answer, Alex picked up his clothing. He said, "Skinner, we have to talk."

 

Walter looked at me. I nodded. He needed to hear what Alex had to say. 

 

I was surprised when Walter took Alex by the arm to lead him to his office. There was something odd about the two of them. I was intrigued and irritated by Walter's reactions to Alex. How the hell did I miss...whatever this was.

 

Walter took out a bug chaser and went over his office. Alex nodded as if pleased to see that. He reached into a hidden pocket in his jacket and produced the vial he had used to vaccinate me. Three other similar packets followed. 

 

"This is vaccine," Alex said. "It will stop the virus from attacking you if you're bitten. It will stop you from rising if the Dead kill you."

 

Walter reached for the vaccine. He said, "It's not enough to vaccinate everyone."

 

"Yeah, I know," Alex said. "It was all I could bring out and when I took it, I had no idea how important it would be. At the time, I thought the Aliens and the project were more of a threat. I screwed up."

 

"You're saying that the Dead were another secret experiment?" Walter said.

 

"They were a by-product of the technology that created the Super Soldiers," Alex said. "I heard something about them, went to check it out, and barely escaped with my life."

 

"Shit," Walter said. "So this is their fault too? How could you work with them?" His eyes were black with anger although his face remained almost expressionless.

 

"I wasn't the only one who worked for them," Alex shot back.

 

 

"They may have had a leash on me," Walter said, "but they owned your ass."

 

"Until you helped me break free," Alex said. "For which, I remain grateful."

 

"I suppose that I will have to accept that you are back in our lives," Walter said. "Since you had the vaccine."

 

"I suggest you be careful about how you share the information. I'm willing to go back to the island and obtain more, but it's iffy if I make it in and out." 

 

Alex sounded confident, but I saw the shadows in his eyes. He meant his last statement.

 

"There's something you're not telling me," Walter said.

 

That was what I was thinking, but whatever Alex was hiding, he wasn't going to put all his cards on the table until he was sure he could win. 

 

I wondered if Walter was cautious enough to keep it under wraps. I could see a scenario where important people insisted that more and more of the vaccine be spared to inoculate them. The rumors would spread, increasing the demand until there was nothing left for the scientists to experiment upon.

 

Alex said, "That's all you need to know for now. I'm going to need some help getting ready for the mission. It will take a few days to prepare."

 

Walter stood there, muscles clenching in his jaw until his face distorted. I think he was one hair from punching Alex's lights out. Shaking his head, Walter said, "You always wanted it your way, Alex."

 

With a grunt, Walter turned and walked away. Alex had him twisted in knots. 

 

"You trying to get him to kick your ass?" I asked.

 

"Don't worry about my ass," Alex replied. "Or Skinner. They're both my business."

 

I gritted my teeth, bound and determined that he wasn't going to get to me. Not this time.

 

Making a heroic effort to remain calm, I said, "You can stay with me." "Quarters are short here. Everything is in short supply except the Dead. We have to raid further and further out for supplies. We've tried to clear the city of the Dead, but they seem to keep coming."

 

"They are attracted to large bodies of living humans," Alex said. "And there aren't that many pockets bigger than this."

 

"You know that for certain?" 

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I wish I could tell you differently, but this continent is a mess. Between the damage done by the colonists and the ravages of the Dead, there's not much of civilization left."

 

"And you made it here from Montana alone?" 

 

"Yeah, surviving is one of my skills. Remember, live with the rats."

 

"I remember. You want to go get something to eat?"

 

Alex nodded, which didn't surprise me. I never knew him to turn down food. I suppose he was never sure where and when his next meal would appear. Probably he worried more about it when he traveled with me. I wasn't always good about keeping partners or prisoners fed. I seldom listened to my body when I was working on a case. Hunger and weariness didn't bother me. It wasn't cruelty that made me oblivious to the needs of those traveling with me; it was obsession. I guess I thought they could live off the pursuit of the truth as I did.

 

Everyone was looking at Alex. He was new here and anyone new was an object for curiosity and speculation. People were going a little stir crazy in this confined atmosphere. The only thing saving us from madness is that there was always work to do; from scratching out a meager harvest from the soil to processing the salvage that came into the base.

 

For those of us who were still too restless for work to calm us, there were the raids. I had volunteered to go on these soon after Walter and I arrived. It helped to numb my grief and it kept me from boredom. 

 

Alex kept close to me. I liked that and I reached out to take his elbow, guiding him, claiming him, thinking about that kiss. It was more than a panicked reaction. I hadn't even kissed Scully in similar situations except for one time, aboard that ship in Antarctica. I glanced at Alex. He briefly met my gaze, before shaking his head and letting his eyes break away from mine.

 

No? No what? 

 

I stopped and said, "Alex, about what happened?"

 

"Later, Mulder," Alex said. "We'll talk about it later. Not here."

 

Not here as in not in this corridor or not here as in not at the base? I wished the idea didn't thrill me as it did. Escape. Escape to danger with my best beloved enemy by my side.

 

That was Alex, always Alex. Alex was the approachable one of my enemies, the most human of the men who oppressed me. Alex was the one whose intentions were never clear to me, who I always thought could have been swayed to my side if... if only.

 

"Alex, is the vaccine real? Do you think we can do this?"

 

"Yes, we can. Not with an army, Mulder. Just the two of us."

 

"Walter won't let me go." 

 

"And that stopped you before? When Skinner said 'no'?" 

 

"No," I answered. I found my lips stretching into what had become an unaccustomed expression. I was smiling. I took Alex's arm again and said, "No, it never did."

 

Alex did that thing he does, duck of the head, tip of the chin to one side, and flutter of those ridiculous lashes. He said, "Then why let good old Walt start to bark orders now?"

 

Why indeed? What Alex offered was a chance to be what I had once been, to be someone who made a difference.

 

"Let's get you something to eat," I said.

 

"Sure, Mulder. Anything you say."

 

It was bean soup again, but at least there was ham in it. Made me glad that Mom wasn't too keen on her Jewish heritage. There was corn bread too. Alex seemed happy at the fare and I was as close to happy as I had ever expected to feel after Scully died.

 

Alex looked good. He was leaner now, telling me that his journey back here must have been hard. It made me wonder how close he was to that friend? I wondered if Alex felt the way I did when I lost Dana.

 

Before I could ask Alex about his lost friend, Walter sat down at our table with his tray of food. His brown eyes moved from me to Alex. "So, you seem to be getting along."

 

"It's the end of the world," Alex said softly. "Why shouldn't we?" 

 

"Because, you never could share the same air space without being at each other's throats. I had to hold Mulder off your ass down in his office," Walter reminded. He picked up his spoon and picked out a lump of ham. 

 

"This is good soup," I said. "The meat tastes fresh."

 

"Harrison found a family that was raising pigs in their house," Walter explained. "He traded them some ammunition for two of the porkers. They didn't want to come to the base. They seemed well able to defend themselves."

 

"Some people can," Alex said. He turned his attention to his soup, eating steadily. 

 

Walter was watching him, an interesting expression on his face. "You can stay in my quarters, Krycek."

 

Now Alex was smiling again, just a flicker at the corner of his mouth. He didn't reply immediately, chasing a last piece of ham around his bowl.

 

"Mulder said I could bunk with him," Alex said, his voice taking on a husky teasing tone.

 

Walter stood up. It might have been to get another piece of cornbread, but the timing was interesting.

 

"I told you to stay away from Mulder," Walter said.

 

"I'm here," I interjected. "I can speak for myself."

 

"Mulder, you think when people post a warning sign that it means they're hiding something from you," Walter lectured. "Sometimes it just means danger."

 

I could see Alex watching us. The sick son of a bitch seemed to be enjoying it. Either that or he was waiting like a doe in season for the two bucks to lock horns and prove which would be the better mate.

 

OooOooO

 

I won. I guess. Walter didn't look very happy, but Alex ended up in my quarters. I managed to keep a room to myself because no one was willing to share with me. I still have trouble sleeping and I prefer reading or watching TV to lying around waiting for sleep to have mercy on me. When I manage to drift into sleep, I have nightmares - worse ones now as I envision Scully's last moments. I scream. If my roommates tried to wake me, I punched them. Finally, Walter converted a storage room into my quarters, requisitioned a double bed for some reason he failed to disclose to me, and hooked me up to the cable feed that was one of our first returns to our former amenities. Everyone was happy with the results. After my poor dorm mates talked about the horrors of sharing quarters with Fox Mulder, no one resented me for having private quarters.

 

Alex said nothing about the size of my room. He yawned, asked where the bathroom was, and exited to use the communal bathroom down the hall.

 

Flopping on my bed when he returned, Alex remarked, "Sharing a bathroom like that must play hell on your jerk-off sessions."

 

"I make do," I said. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to go grab a shower and brush my teeth."

 

When I came back, Alex was in my bed, beneath the blankets. He blinked sleepily at me and said, "Don't worry about waking me if you can't sleep. I can sleep anywhere."

 

"I remember," I said, recalling Alex's naps on long stakeouts. Once, we were stationed in the train station, disguised as a pair of homeless guys. Alex asked if he could catch forty winks. I said, sure, but was certain that no one could sleep with the floor rumbling, suitcases dropping, and trains being called. I was wrong. He ended up leaning against my shoulder, mouth open slightly and drooling just a little, lashes spread like angel's wings across his cheekbones. I was so distracted watching him that I almost missed our suspect. It was okay. Once Alex woke up, we still caught up with him. It was a great bust. 

 

When I lifted the blankets, I noticed that Alex was nude. Very, very nude. I lowered the blankets, glanced at him, and then stripped down also.

 

"I suppose this is based on some kind of scientific theory of sharing body heat you read about in a survival manual," I said.

 

"Nope, I just like to sleep naked."

 

There wasn't much room in a double bed for two guys the size that Alex and I were. Our bodies were forced together. I lay there and tried to breathe calmly. Giving up, I turned toward Alex, running my hand down his arm as if inspecting the rebel's gift. He turned toward me, his face quizzical. 

 

"My arm is no different, Mulder," Alex told me. "You won't feel any difference because there isn't any, not even on the deepest cellular level. I had tests run on it to be sure as my friends know all too much about biological engineering."

 

Abandoning my pretense, I said, "I'm glad you chose to sleep in my room, Alex. I'm glad you chose me."

 

Leaning forward to kiss him, I was shocked to have him move away. Alex said, "I chose you because I'm tired. I'm exhausted. Get real, Mulder. I just found out a few days ago that a very close friend is probably dead. If I wanted to fuck, I would have let Walter caveman me into his quarters."

 

With that, Alex turned around, curled his arm under the pillow and went to sleep.

 

I seriously considered dumping Alex out of my bed. I glared at his back then decided I didn't care what he thought. I wrapped my arms around him as if he was a living body pillow. Despite his words, he didn't move away from me. I fell asleep promptly, my needs met. 

 

OooOooO

 

I woke up with empty arms, feeling as if I slept better than I had in years. I fumbled for my alarm clock. It was almost eight a.m. I never slept this late nor did I ever get the urge to snuggle back under the covers. I could still feel his warmth and catch his scent, not just the shampoo and soap he used, but that elusive trace that was natural and personal. Pheromones.... Frohike told me more than once that it was never about romance, but was all about pheromones. His dream was to have a biochemist find a way to alter body chemistry. Frohike used to sit back and say, "The right scent for Scully...someday."

 

Now Frohike's someday will never come. I went over to tell him in person after I found out that my three ill made knights had lived through the dawning horror of the walking Dead. He wept. Then we got drunk and the four of us went into the city and killed hundreds of the Dead. We returned to the gunmen's citadel and got drunk again.

 

I wonder if Frohike is right? Is it a matter of chemistry? If so, I wondered if sometimes it was right for one person and not for another?

 

Was I the right one for Scully, but she not the one for me? I don't know. Perhaps we were both self deluded for a while. So many people assumed that we loved each other romantically and physically, perhaps we came to believe it ourselves. I did love her. I will always love her.

 

Alex, though, Alex smells right to me. He pissed me off from the moment I met him, but the first time we rode in the car together, I wanted to pull over somewhere and ravage him.

 

Thinking about him, I was hard. My hand went to myself and I closed my eyes, breathing in essence of Alex. It didn't take long. All I had to do was to imagine that my hand was his hand, that elegant hand with the long fingers. I could see his eyes gazing at me in my mind, hear his husky voice. Coming was bliss, nearly as good as I imagined it would be when Alex let me touch him. (He still couldn't be sticking to 'don't touch me again'. Not after all these years.)

 

I was off duty after being on patrol for two weeks. Normally, I would have stormed into Walter's office and asked why the hell he took me off the roster. Today was different. They wouldn't have assigned Alex to anything this soon. I had a plan. He said to understand his feelings. I could do that. I'm a psychologist. I was a profiler. It was once my job to try to get into another person's head, understand his motivations and predict his actions. I had never been able to do that with Alex, but I was sure it was from lack of trying, not from lack of ability.

 

The cafeteria was almost empty. I expected to find Alex here. He always liked to eat. I walked up to the bored woman server and asked, "Did you see the new guy? The one that came in with me last night?"

 

"The good looking guy?" the woman asked. "Yeah, he was just here, but he left with Commander Skinner. I think they were going to look at the armored vehicles."

 

"Thanks," I said, imagining that Walter was going to get a jump on me and take off with Alex to save the world without me.

 

They were talking when I walked into the yard. Talking, but not the way it should have been going down. Walter was standing too close. It would have been okay if he had been looming over Alex in a threatening fashion, but as I watched, Walter leaned close, trapping Alex against the small version of the armored hummer. 

 

My boss was going to kiss the man I had just decided was my soul mate. Hell, no. No way.

 

"Alex?" I said loudly.

 

I expected them to jump away from each other. Or expected Walter to leap back as there wasn't any place for Alex to go, hemmed in as he had been. 

 

Instead, Walter moved over a little, but stayed close to Alex. I noticed Walter's face was shiny. I had seen him like that a few times when he had been drinking. I didn't think this time it was alcohol. He was high off Krycek. 

 

"Yeah, Mulder," Alex said.

 

"We were going to talk about what we would need," I said.

 

"You looked like you needed the sleep," Alex replied. He slipped away from Walter, managing to trail his hand over my boss' arm as he did. 

 

My temper flared and I wanted to scream at both of them, but some wiser spirit warned me not to let my anger blind me. I said, "Walter, are you thinking of letting Alex and me use this Hybrid?"

 

"I'm trying to persuade the president to authorize it," Walter said. "It would be better if we could spare a helicopter, but when I brought that up, the president panicked."

 

That made me grimace. President Bush - son and brother of the other Bush presidents - was a conservative. Mostly he conserved on risks he took with his own life. The base had three working helicopters. I knew that flights were kept to a minimum for a reason. There was a list of people who would be saved and fly out on the helicopters if the base was ever overrun by the Dead. The President was first on that list. 

 

"The Hybrid will do," Alex said, "although we're going to need distractions to get out of the city. If I made it here from Montana without an armored car, Mulder and I should be able to make it to Washington State with one."

 

The black hybrid was the size of a small mobile home, but much more mobile. This model could be operated by two men, one to drive and the other to work the multitude of weapons. The hybrid's surface was studded with weapons. Missile launchers gave it a saber tooth profile. Machine guns could fire from any angle. It was not beautiful, but it was sturdy. It could withstand enormous pressure and was rock steady. It had great traction, an off road ability that could not be matched.

 

I knew the hybrid represented tremendous expenditure of resources. Without telling the President about the vaccine, Walter would have a difficult time persuading him to allow us use of the hybrid.

 

"They don't trust you, Alex," Walter said. He looked at me and said, "Or you, Mulder."

 

"They trust you," I said.

 

"Not where you are concerned," Walter admitted. He looked away and I saw Alex glance his way and then at me.

 

Interesting, to think Alex was jealous. Served him right.

 

Walking over to Alex, I tapped his arm and said, "I thought we could go to the library and do some planning."

 

Alex glanced at Walter again, but he followed me. I tried not to feel like I won again.

 

Sitting side by side at a computer station, it felt very much like old times. I was a fool that first time. I should have reached out to him. I should have made an effort to reach through his barriers and win him to my side as I had done with Scully.

 

Alex felt it too. He smiled at me and said, "I feel like I should be going to get you coffee."

 

"I missed you bringing me my coffee when you...left," I admitted. "Alex, I never said I was sorry. That I wished....”

 

"Mulder, it's done and I'm not sure we could have done it working together. We were two elements that exploded every time we met. 

 

"Explosive? I guess we were that. Not any more, Alex. I want to work with you. Let's be partners."

 

For once I seemed to have hit the right choice of words. Alex smiled as wide as a crocodile. He ducked his head again, smiled the way I remembered him smiling when he was playing a green agent, and then beamed at me again. "You mean that, Mulder?"

 

"Yes. Yes, Alex. I know we have to depend on each other to survive. I want you to believe that the past is dead."

 

Sappy as hell. What a guy won't do to get laid. 

 

Someone was being fooled. I think it was me.

 

OooOooO

 

It took two hours to plot out the best route. We have the internet running again. It's not the giant web it once was, but there are enough connections to make it useful again. At least, there were enough people with operative systems and intact phone lines for us to confirm that our best tactic was to avoid urban areas as much as possible.

 

Alex leaned into me as we logged off the computer. "I'd like to get going, but there are some modifications we'll need for the Hybrid. An auxiliary gas tank and a couple more escape routes."

 

"The tank we can probably get," I said, "but gas to fill it is another issue."

 

"Let me worry about that. The project had caches along the route we're taking. We won't run short of fuel."

 

"Let me ask you this, Alex. Why me? Why not Walter? Why not go alone?"

 

"Yeah, the thought occurred to me," Alex replied. "Going it alone, I mean. I never really thought about Walter."

 

Just as I started to feel pleased by Alex's statement, Alex kept going, "I guess I forget he's not the assistant director of the FBI anymore. He could take off if he wanted."

 

"Don't fool yourself," I said. "Walter is still the same as ever. He's running the patrols, in charge of security. He says he doesn't like it, but then why does all that responsibility always seem to find him?"

 

"It does, doesn't it?" Alex said. "At least, he doesn't have Spender to cope with anymore."

 

"That's a plus," I agreed. "Let's talk."

 

"We have been talking." 

 

"I've been talking; you've been evading." 

 

"That's what we do”.

 

"No. Not anymore. We're not going to play games anymore."

 

Having ruled out games, we ended up not having anything to say until Alex announced that he would like to see the arsenal. That took a call to Walter, but at least it gave us something to talk about. 

 

Alex was a kid in a candy store. I finally knew his version of a hot date; armories do it for him. I had to glance at his crotch to see if he was hard after observing how excited he was about the armaments.

 

Not content to merely look at the racks and shelves of weapons, Alex squatted down to dig through boxes and check dusty corners with obscure heaps of machinery. 

 

I heard Alex catch his breath suddenly and he reached into a box. He said, "Oh, baby, come to daddy."

 

Producing a gun I thought I remembered from the Man from Uncle when I used to watch it, Alex's hands flew over the weapon, assembling it with skill and speed. "It's a Mp-5, Mulder."

 

Handing the weapon to me, Alex moved the box and extracted another one. He assembled this one as well, hefted it, trying its weight and balance. Lastly, Alex inspected the ammunition before finally standing up. 

 

"Oh, Mulder, I think I'm in love." 

 

OooOooO

 

That night as we curled in my bed, Alex turned to me, his lips open, his face soft and trusting for once. "Mulder? Are you still awake?"

 

"Yeah." 

 

"I wanted to ask you something." 

 

It was about time. I refrained from reaching for him. "I've been hoping you would ask," I said.

 

Puzzled eyes looked at me. Alex's nose had that little scrunch over it that I remembered thinking was cute back before I thought I knew what he was.

 

"Mulder? I just wanted to ask you if you had first aid training recently."

 

Oh, lovely, so much for my charms overwhelming Alex. I said, "Yeah, it's required. I’ve had field first aid, although the only first aid we know for someone who is infected is a clean shot to the head.”

 

At least, having to recall giving that final mercy cooled my ardor. 

 

"You still able to learn as fast as you used to?" Alex asked. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder, his hands stroking me.

 

"Yes," I said. "What do you want to teach me?" My eyes flickered over him and liked what I saw.

 

"Mulder," Alex said exasperated. "Are you that damn horny?"

 

I thought about it a few moments and said, "Yeah."

 

Eyes rolling, Alex said, "Oh shit, Mulder, that's not a place we want to go. It's too complicated. We're too complicated."

 

My hand reached out, even though I really thought he might bite it off. "I like complex things, Alex. I'm a very bright boy. I can handle it if you can."

 

Stroking Alex's face softly, I traced his broad forehead, the petite nose with its distinctive wrinkle, the soft mobile lips with the cleft in the lower lip. He didn't push my hand away. He took a deep breath and said, "Mulder, wait."

 

Damn. I could tell I was getting someplace with Alex. Why was he stopping me before I had managed to get to his more interesting parts?

 

"Mulder, not now. You have to focus on our mission."

 

"You think getting laid will distract me?" 

 

"Yes, I do," Alex said. "Listen to me. I came here for a couple of reasons: to check on my friend, and to enlist you. Walter... Walter's another issue. Someday I'll tell you if he agrees. When we're ready, well, if you still want me, it will happen. Right now I need you to put all of your energy into preparing for our mission."

 

"Okay, so about the first aid? You want more?"

 

"Yes, I'm not Sc...I'm not a doctor, but I qualified as a field medic," Alex said. "I could splint your bones if I had to, do a field tracheotomy, or stop a sucking chest wound."

 

Sucking was a word I had hoped to hear Alex speak in conjunction with another thought than chest wound. I nodded and said, "I'll review the field material and have one of the doctors run through the course with me. How long do we have?"

 

"A week at most. Even now, even as we lie here in bed with each other, the Dead are destroying more of the world." 

 

"The way of the dinosaurs, Alex?" 

 

"Yeah, Mulder, the way of the dinosaurs," Alex agreed.

 

"Well, we can't have that.” I leaned forward and kissed that wrinkle above his nose. "Why don't you and I save the world, Alex, and then I'm going to fuck you."

 

"We have a plan," Alex said. 

 

Alex's kiss hit my lips. It was a promise. He kissed like he did everything, with skill and total attention. We broke apart because we had to catch our breath and then Alex said, "Later, Mulder."

 

Okay, later. Made me wonder if those dinosaurs got some before they went. Never felt sorry for a dinosaur before.

 

OooOooO

 

Guthrie watched me apply first aid to the Annie mannequin. He nodded as the patch I made of plastic wrap stopped the bubble of air. He said, "You have it. Nice work, Mulder."

 

"Thanks, maybe I should have become a medical doctor. First aid for bodies is easier than first aid for mental health. " 

 

"You never practiced though," Guthrie said. 

 

"How did you know that?" 

 

"I was a fan."

Guthrie reminded me of Pendrell, that sweet lab boy who had such a crush on Scully. He had the same rusty red hair and deep blue eyes. He had more freckles and fewer waves in his hair, but it brought back a lot of memories.

 

Pendrell had such a crush on Scully. She should have let him worship her. They should have married and had a brood of adorable red haired children.

 

I'll never fully understand why Scully stood by me. We fought like sister and brother sometimes, the way I had once sparred with my sister, Samantha. I don't know why we thought it would be different if we lived together...well, it was different. We argued even more. I blamed myself. I was the one lacking diplomatic skills. I tried not to think of Scully; I would give my right arm to have one more day of arguing with her.

 

"I'm sorry," Guthrie said. "I know a lot of us don't want to be reminded of the past."

 

"Not a problem. Alex asked me to have you put together our first aid supplies."

 

"Sure, I can do a good job at it since Matthews raided that medical supply warehouse." 

 

"Great. We'll be leaving day after tomorrow."

 

"I suppose you can't tell me what you guys are looking for?" 

 

"I can't," I said, "Wish us luck anyway."

 

OooOooO

 

I couldn't find Alex anywhere. I went from the munitions to the vehicles to our room and back again without luck.

 

I don't know what led me toward Walter's room. He was allowed his own space too as a privilege of rank. As I approached, the door opened and Alex emerged. Walter's hand reached forward, pulling him back.

 

"Don't go," Walter said. "Or let me go with you to keep you both safe."

 

It could have been innocent. He could have been meeting with Walter about our mission, but then the door opened fully and Walter stepped into the corridor. He had pulled on his jeans, but they were unzipped, revealing the upper edge of a thick thatch of pubic hair. He looked dissolute. Alex turned back toward him when Walter pulled on his arm.

 

"I can't stay," Alex said. "We have to get Mulder's kid and we have to get the vaccine. As for you coming, I think we have our best chance with as few people as possible."

 

"Why not me then?" Skinner said. "Why Mulder?"

 

"I need someone with Mulder's talents," Alex said.

 

"You just want him," Walter said. "You think that you can have him this way."

 

"I could have had him any time, any way I wanted him," Alex snarled. “I'm the one that said 'no' and don't you ever forget that."

 

"You said yes to me," Walter reminded Alex, pulling him close and into his arms.

 

I stood there watching, furious and turned on, as Walter kissed the mouth I wanted to kiss, and ran hands over the body I desired with all of my being.

 

"Alex," Walter said, his voice like I had never heard, full of rough passion and longing. It hit me that having Alex as he allowed Walter to have him might not be better than to be denied him.

 

I hadn't been seen. I left them, my jealousy defused. It was obvious that I didn't understand either of them. I was totally confused and I no longer was sure what I wanted. 

 

OooOooO

 

Alex's quiet movements told me that he thought I was asleep. I wasn't. I had been thinking and, when thought failed me, I had let my feelings roll over me in cascades of longing, grief, anger, lust, and love. I had no conclusions. I still wanted Alex. Walter was my friend and I could not find it in me to hate him.

 

When Alex settled next to me, I reached for him. He sighed as if too weary to argue with me. I didn't intend to try to seduce him. I needed to hold him. I needed some connection, something against the vast darkness that awaits us all.

 

When my hand stroked gently down his back, Alex settled against me. My hand moved from his soft hair to his strong shoulders to the elegant inward curve of his lower back. I stopped there, trying to show Alex that I wasn't asking for more than he was willing to give.

 

"Mulder?" Alex asked. "Something wrong?"

 

"No," I replied. "I just felt alone."

 

"Okay," Alex answered. "Let's be alone together."

 

OooOooO

 

The next day was all business. Patrols had been going out since dawn, trying to move the armies of the Dead away from our chosen path. They were a sea of decayed flesh, an ocean of horror. 

 

I hated the early mornings here. I often had trouble sleeping. Feeling trapped, I would walk along the concrete wall that protected the base. From below, I could hear a constant sound, the moans of the walking Dead. They were not capable of words. Instead, from their dead lungs came this inhuman wail. 

 

We had tested some specimens, measured electrical brain activity. There were some traces on the electroencephalograms, mostly in the brain stem. The doctors and scientists assured us all that they were not capable of experiencing pain or emotions. I took that with a grain of salt. I know that in the past some scientists swore that minority races did not feel the emotions of the white man. Sometimes science is only expediency thinly disguised.

 

I didn't have a problem with killing them if they did have sensation left. I believe they are in constant agony. Certainly I hope that there is nothing of the individual left in these shambling masses of putrescence. That would be unbearable. I brushed my arm where Alex had injected me. I felt selfish in feeling relieved that I would not die of their bite and knowing that even if they killed me that I would not rise. That was a gift worth any amount of effort.

 

"You ready?" Alex said.

 

He was standing next to Walter. I could see how difficult it was for Walter to keep from touching him. There was such pain in Walter's eyes that I had to look away, checking supplies that Alex and I had gone over carefully yesterday. This vehicle was the best we had for our mission. It was a hybrid of hummer, motor home, and tank. The wheels were capable of traveling over rough terrain and through water. It could take any kind of fuel and had three tanks, all full for now. Alex had a map of Consortium facilities that should be intact and supply us with more.

 

We carried enough water for us and the vehicle for days. We had water purification tabs should that become an issue. There was a set of heavy armor for each of us. As for armament, the tank could clear dozens of the Dead with one burst of its primary weapon, a rocket launcher. It had banks of machine guns. We had an array of hand held weapons down to a weapon that Alex had invented. It was a long handled scythe with enough weight to harvest a head from a neck. I had been working with Alex on using those, but not yet mastered his technique. I saw him kill a score of Dead using his device. Alex told me that he had taken several forms of stick fighting and fencing when he was in training. The evidence was clear in how confident he was with the long scythe like weapon. Guys started calling him the grim reaper after seeing that.

 

"You're sure that you want to go this alone?" Walter asked.

 

"I have Mulder," Alex answered. "The Beast really only has room for two comfortably."

 

"I could handle the close quarters," Walter said.

 

"No," Alex said. "Stay here. We'll be back."

 

Following us inside, Walter looked around, noting the double bunk down. His gaze moved to me and fixed.

 

"I know about you," I said. "If you want to say goodbye the right way...."

 

Looking grateful, Walter caught Alex by the waist, turning him around in his arms. His big hand explored Alex's face, tracing each feature as if to memorize how they felt. He leaned close, kissed each of Alex's eyelids as I longed to do, to feel the flutter of those thick incredible lashes. He moved downward, his lips caressing Alex's snip of a nose. Finally, their mouths joined, Walter molding Alex's body to his own.

 

As they separated, Walter whispered, "I love you."

 

"That's impossible," Alex said. "It's not about that with us. It's never been like that. It's desire. It's lust."

 

"You're wrong," Walter said. "Why do you think I could feel so much hate?"

 

I watched Alex's expression, the shock in his wide eyes, the faint tremble of his lovely soft mouth. You're not always in control, Alex. You're not always right.

 

Alex touched his lips and his eyes traveled to me. I met them steadily.

 

"Mulder," Alex said.

 

"Don't ask me to back off," I said. "I want you too. I've always wanted you."

 

"Fuck," Alex said. "Let's get out of here, Mulder."

 

Walter made a low hopeless, helpless sound. To my surprise, he hugged me hard, kissed my cheek, and said, "You take care of each other. Work together and most of all, don't either of you dare get yourself killed."

 

Hear that, God? The boss ordered it. 

 

OooOooO

Alex had been driving for most of the day. As long as possible, Walter provided a spear head, moving the Dead aside for us. When we reached the perimeter of the city, the Dead were so thick that I covered my ears and avoided the viewing screen. It took several hours to immunize me from the constant thudding, squishing sound of our wheels plowing over the slower members of the throng that surrounded DC. Now it was less to me than the rain which was falling steadily outside.

 

"I can drive," I said.

 

"I've seen you drive," Alex replied, not showing any sign of giving up the wheel.

 

"Hey, I hadn't slept for a couple days when I fell asleep at the wheel."

 

"You crashed the truck in Tunguska.”

 

"There was something wrong with the steering," I replied defensively, setting coffee and a sandwich down by Alex's right hand.

 

Alex grunted and veered left. Most of the screens were obscured with decaying matter. Alex was navigating by the topmost screens only.

 

"You would think they would have thought of that," I grumbled at the obscured screens.

 

"They never intended these things to drive so long without stopping for a clean up," Alex replied, reaching for the coffee. He grabbed a couple of vitamin pills from my hand and washed them down.

 

"You finally learned to make coffee," Alex said. "This is good."

 

"Beans aren't fresh, but we did put all the beans we could find in deep freeze," I explained. "Lot of coffee drinkers will never need that second espresso."

 

"Got that," Alex said. "You can drive when we're out of the burbs. Once we're away from the urban areas, there are places you can drive a hundred miles and not see a zombie. In Montana and North Dakota, there are plenty of independent little towns that held out pretty well. They had no problem blowing holes in the first Dead who showed up and they set up hunting parties to get rid of the problems. Ah, there we go."

 

Alex veered through a truck stop car wash and sloshed away the worst of the decaying flesh that covered our tank.

 

"How did you know it still works?" I asked. 

 

"Went through here before when I was going to check on Adam.

 

"That your friend from the Smithsonian?" 

 

"Yeah.”

 

"He must have been special for you to come all this way." 

 

"He was my friend. He always stood by me. There was nothing I could ever do that could make him stop being my friend."

 

"I'm sorry," I said, throat going tight as I thought about Scully. She was like that. We could argue, disagree, go for each other's throat, and our friendship stayed intact.

 

"I told him to stay in the basement," Alex said. "I set up that bolt hole for him and another in his apartment building. I said the minute trouble starts, any strange report, go to whichever safe place is nearer and stay there until I come for you. What part of that was hard to understand, Mulder?"

 

"Why didn't you warn Walter? It looks like there was a lot I missed about you two."

 

"Yeah, right. Fucking me is one thing. Believing me is another. How long did it take for you to get Walter to believe what was in front of his face the entire time?"

 

"A lot of years and two commitments to mental health facilities," I said.

 

"If I told Walter, take the people you love and get to some place you can defend, he would ask why," Alex said. "What would his response be if I told him the Dead were going to rise and try to eat us?"

 

"That you had watched too many of my 'other' movies." 

 

"Ah, yes, the famous B grade horror flicks," Alex said, a faint smile crossing his face. "Yeah, sometimes I wonder if we didn't just fall asleep when I was over and all of this was just a black and white nightmare caused by sunflower seeds and buttered popcorn."

 

"I wish. What was your Adam like?"

 

"A lot like you. Smart, sassy, big nose. I guess I like my lovers to have what I lack in the nose department. Adam loved books, but he loved people too. He was quiet in his way. I never knew that much about him. He was secretive about his past, but that was good. I couldn't tell him a lot about mine. I always felt like we had forever when we were making love. He was never in a hurry to rush to the end."

 

How can you feel jealous of a man who was most likely dead and whom you never met? Knowing my feelings were inappropriate did not stop me from feeling them. I went to use the john, the only place that Alex and I had to get away from each other. This was going to be one hell of a long trip.

 

OooOooO

 

I had taken the wheel at about three a.m. We were on a straight stretch of freeway. I hadn't seen any of the dead for at least an hour. If I could ignore the lack of other vehicles other than rusting hulks along the side of the road, it could have been a road trip from the old days. If I blinked, it seemed as if Scully should be beside me, drowsy and irritable or sleeping, her mouth open and slack in slumber. I felt my eyes sting as I remembered that I would never see her frown or her smile again. It wasn't fair. She should have had a future. Now our son would hardly remember her.

 

I could hear Alex's deep even breaths. He had gone to the tiny bathroom and came out with wet hair and freshly washed face. After asking me if I needed anything, he had turned in. I said no... since he wasn't on the menu. He had smiled at me quizzically and yawned. A moment later he was curled around himself on the bunk, asleep. How could he sleep with such ease with all that he had done? It wasn't fair.

 

I passed by a truck stop. A car had gone through the window of the convenience store. There were signs of a battle, bullet holes in the building and a few scattered bones. When I slowed, a few of the Dead emerged from hiding places, staggering eagerly in my direction. I nodded to them and resisted the temptation to strafe them. Alex had warned me not to waste ammo. Save it for situations that we truly had no other choice but to fight. Otherwise, he directed me to run. He was a chicken shit and an ass hole, but he was still alive, which counted in his favor.

 

A small town down the road probably held survivors. I saw a wall built of cars, rubble, and barbed wire blocking off a few blocks to my left. They had power; I could see lights. I knew there were living human beings inside the barrier; the Dead thronged the outside. It was obvious that they would soon overwhelm the barbed wire. I glanced back at Alex. He was still asleep. 

 

I thought about what he had said again. Don't waste ammo.

 

Ah, hell, since when did I start listening to Krycek? I aimed the tank in the direction of the heaviest concentration of the Dead and fired the machine gun. I would have liked to have used the mortar, but my few practice sessions didn't result in precise shooting. The survivors of this town wouldn't appreciate it if I punched a hole in their defenses.

 

The heavy machine gun worked like a scythe, shattering heads, severing torsos, spinning the Dead away from its path. I tried to fire in a pattern that sent the Dead flying away from the barrier then fired again to chop the body parts to the point that no animation survived. Lower parts of bodies always returned to inert decaying flesh. Upper parts could crawl along indefinitely as long as most of the spinal cord survived.

 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Alex grumbled. 

 

Glancing his way, I saw spiky hair, pillow lines on his cheek, and his hand rubbing sleep from his eyes. He was really cute.

 

"Getting the survivors of that town some breathing space," I said.

 

"And how does that fit into using the weapons only as needed?" Alex asked.

 

"It's necessary for the townspeople," I said, firing steadily. I was really getting in the hang of using the machine gun fire to shatter brains and spinal cords. 

 

"Do you have any idea how big an asshole you are?" 

 

"Big enough for a dick like you to fill?"

 

"Keep shooting your mouth off, Mulder. And, talking about my dick is as near as you are getting to it."

 

"More interested in your asshole, asshole." 

 

Alex sat down next to me and I saw him fiddling with the mortar settings. I grinned as I realized he was going to lay down some mortar fire. Alex was damn good with any kind of weapon.

 

On the long list of questions that I want to ask Alex one of these days is which came first, becoming a dark op or his skill with weapons. Was he picked because he was good or trained until his hand felt empty without a gun? I wasn't going to ask him now. I have a feeling he might shoot me.

 

The heavy mortar shook the hybrid tank. The shot mowed down the moaning hoards of Dead that clawed at each other to get at the living bodies they sensed inside the enclave. I could see ocean waves of fluids and flesh radiate from each hit. By the time, Alex was finished, there was nothing left standing. I picked off a few stragglers and grinned in triumph.

 

Alex grunted and said, "If you're thinking we accomplished anything, you're even a bigger asshole than I said you were. We didn't save those people. All we did is put off their eventual defeat. All those thousand points of light that jerk of a president talked about...they're going out, one by one. Only the Dead go on, the armies of the Dead increasing as each farm house falls, each small town is crushed under their insentient, insatiable progress. That's reality, Mulder."

 

"You're some kind of cheerleader," I commented. "So if we're doomed why don't we give up? Why are we making this journey?"

 

"If we make it, get to the vaccine, then we have a chance, Mulder, but if you throw it away by wasting our resources on every faltering pin head of resistance, then we're doomed. This country, the world, humanity is doomed," Alex said.

 

Pausing for a minute to watch the living cautiously emerge to finish off the scattering of mangled but still moving zombies, Alex's mouth was drawn into a straight line of anger. His eyes flashed, beautiful and bright beneath his lowered brows. I wanted to look at him. I wanted to devour him with my eyes then ravish him with my hands, my mouth, my cock that was rock hard and hurting for him.

 

"Get going," Alex said. "Once they snap out of it, they are going to see this tank as salvation. They won't let us leave."

 

Even as Alex spoke, I saw armed men and women heading our way. They weren't smiling and waving and they sure as hell weren't getting ready to throw us a victory parade.

 

I gunned the tank into high gear and hit the freeway. 

 

I fucking hated it when Alex was right.

 

OooOooO

 

Once we were a safe distance from the town, Alex took over again. He was silent, not even looking my way.

 

I couldn't sleep. I sat in the shotgun seat until Alex's 'I'm not looking at you' turned to lethal glares. I went back, took a shit, washed up as best as I could, and then went to the bunk. I didn't think I could sleep, but I must have drifted off because I woke up when the tank stopped moving.

 

"What?" I asked, words thick in my mouth, muffled as sleep slowly let go of me.

 

"At a way station," Alex said, "Or nearly there. We've been in Montana for several hours."

 

There was wall of flame in front of us. I gaped at it, almost expecting some burning bush to speak from it.

 

There were heaps of corpses away from the thick wall of fire. I saw a zombie whose hunger was stronger than its feeble instinct for self preservation walk toward the flame. A moment later, the zombie staggered back, wandering in smaller and smaller circles before it fell. 

 

"I saw some of the fresher corpses going away from here," Alex said.

 

Oh good, Alex was talking to me again. "We've been studying them. The sooner a corpse comes back to life after dying, the more of its brain seems to function. None of them retain personality...we're sure of that. They do however seem to have some ability to think and plan if they rise when they're fresh," I said.

 

"Yeah? What kind of measuring cup do you use to figure out if something has a personality?" Alex growled.

 

"I've been observing these damn things since the first day," I said. "Don't you think I worried that some morsel of humanity remained? It took me a long time to believe that they were not seriously ill humans, but now I see it. There's nothing left but that hunger, the hunger that can't be satisfied. They are vehicles for the virus, their hunger the means of replicating itself."

 

Alex flipped open his cell phone and said, "Rooster Tail, chick coming home."

 

"Alex, that you?" a voice said. It seemed familiar, but I wasn't quite sure who it was.

 

"Yes," Alex said.

 

A section of fire died down and revealed a road. Alex drove inside and the fire rose behind us. Beyond the fire was an ordinary fence with guard towers. Alex got out of the tank and gestured for me to follow. Armored men surrounded us with drawn weapons. 

 

One of them pushed us aside to look inside the tank. A moment later, the man nodded and allowed us to continue on.

 

"Assholes, as if the Dead could drive a tank," I commented.

 

"You're the asshole," Alex said. "There are a handful of cultists who believe the Dead are the second coming. They are bravely foregoing their immediate salvation in order to convert the heathens. They can drive tanks."

 

"You mean they open human enclaves to the dead?" I asked in sick fascination.

 

"Got it in one, Mulder.”

 

"Shit," I said feebly. "Shit, that's sicker than the Peacock family."

I saw Alex's grin of recognition and felt pleased that he paid that close attention to me. Sure, at the time I might have killed him for spying on me, but that was the past. Now I felt it was a compliment.

 

"Yeah," Alex said. "The only good thing is that they won't make it another twenty years. Fuckers sent their kids out to salvation. Bastards."

 

I felt a wave of sickness as I understood what Alex meant. They had given their children to the Dead to be bitten and converted to zombies. Some days it's harder than other days to believe that humanity is worth saving. 

 

We drove to the main building and parked in the lot. I saw someone standing on the steps, my brother, Jeff. Not the scarred monster that Scully described and I saw at my trial, but the same intense man I had known, just a few years older and a lot wiser.

 

"You're looking good," I said.

 

"Thanks, Mulder," Jeff said.

 

"So they got a healer for you?" I hazarded.

 

"Didn't need one," Jeff admitted. "It was all makeup."

 

"It looked real." 

 

"Oh, you should see my version of the Great Mutato. You'd think it was the real thing."

 

I saw another familiar face behind Jeff. Brian Pendrell. He blushed when I spotted him and shrugged. 

 

"I guess there are several explanations to make," Jeff said. "Come on. I'm going to have my people go over the tank and make sure you are as well equipped as possible to go on."

 

As we followed Jeff and Brian inside, I saw them briefly clasp hands. I guess Brian finally got over Scully.

 

OooOooO

 

I was waiting for the explosion I was sure was coming. Alex was still pissed. I could tell he was holding his anger inside. He moved as if he could explode at any minute. I looked at him and I couldn't take my eyes off him; he was bad and mad, and sexy as hell.

 

I couldn't help thinking of the times I mocked Alex, dismissed him, knocked him around, and laughed in his face. What had I been thinking? This man had so much raw power, incredible strength. I felt something that I had only felt once before in all my dealings with Alex. He had ambushed me in my apartment, brandishing a gun in my face after knocking me on my ass. I made a sarcastic remark about him beating himself with one hand and heard the click of the trigger. To tell the truth, I might have backed down even without that gun in my face after I saw his expression. 

 

"Do you have a place where Mulder and I can clean up?" Alex asked. "That bathroom in the hybrid is not my idea of a spa."

 

"Sure," Jeff said. "Brian will show you. I'm going to check and see if we have some ammo and shells for you. We managed to get to that army base in the next county. There were no survivors. We think it was the Right to Deathers, but there were a lot of things we can use from there."

 

Pendrell led us to a very nice room, apparently assuming that Alex and I were together. Either that, or they were short of guest rooms. There was an attached bathroom and I wondered if there was any chance of taking a shower before Alex.

 

To my surprise, Alex locked the door and said, "Take your clothes off. We're at the point where I'm going to either fuck you or kill you."

 

I was already obeying, my hands fumbling in my eagerness, but my mouth still shot out a sarcastic, "There's always the option of doing both, in whatever sequence strikes your fancy."

 

"Don't tempt me," Alex said, throwing his clothes across the room. 

 

Alex came at me as if his body was a weapon, which I guess it was. I had leaned down to take off my jeans. He dragged me to the bed, still trailing my pants by one leg. As I tumbled backwards, he pulled off my jeans, leaving me naked. His eyes swept over me, a predatory, hungry gaze that turned me on in a way that made me wonder where this submissive streak had been hiding.

 

Alex's mouth ravaged mine, kissing me deep and long, sucking on my lower lip before his tongue fought with mine. My hands moved over him, exploring. I wanted to touch him everywhere; to have him and be had by him in every possible way. I was afraid that he would change his mind, get me started and then push me away as a punishment. I knew I wasn't going to be able to take that as an answer.

 

Alex's mouth moved over my throat, exploring my pulse points. I felt his teeth nibble at me at first softly then almost to the point of pain. I arched away from his teeth and I felt his laughter against my skin. His thumbs circled my nipples, pinched them gently and then harder. I felt his stubble trail down my chest, the quick probe of his tongue into my belly button, and then he was at my cock.

 

I spread my legs, opening myself to anything he wanted to do. His mouth was hot and wet. I could feel his lips, his tongue, moving on me. I was hard, wanting to come and wanting his attention to never stop. Alex paused, then he was sliding over me. It took me a moment to understand what he intended, then I knew and I had to think of fluke man before I could keep myself from losing it before it started.

 

Alex fitted himself over me. He crouched above me, a predator, a wild thing that was going to devour me. His green eyes were narrowed to eerie slits. He panted as he moved onto me, fitting himself over my cock. His hand worked his cock, pushing my hand away when I reached for him. 

 

I had never had sex like this - not so much the position, but so totally lacking in control. Alex's face was beautiful and distant, caught up in his own pleasure. His head arched backwards as he used me for his pleasure. I could feel his movements start to stutter. He finally let me touch him, bracing him as he hissed in pleasure. His come shot over my chest, decorated my chin. I came a moment later, my body incandescent as I shot into him.

 

Alex rolled off me, his back to me. I reached to touch him, half afraid he would hit me. He didn't though, turning into my embrace and kissing me until I thought I would pass out from lack of air. He whispered in my ear, "If you ever disobey me again, you'll never touch me again."

 

Something told me I better believe him. Something told me that I better not push the line. Alex was something I couldn't live without. He was addictive. The more I touched him, the more I wanted him.

 

Alex rested against me; he leaned close to me and said, "We could have had that long ago. We should have. You are the most arrogant, idiotic, impossible man that I know. I love you."

 

I fell asleep smiling.

 

OooOooO

 

Waking up alone, I rolled out of bed. I still felt a high from last night. I felt different, as if something had unwound inside me. I could still feel Alex straddling me, his body riding mine to completion. I had imagined having sex with Alex so many times, my dick in my hand as I dreamed of taking him in every way, in every position, but I had never thought about fucking that way, with him in total control yet my cock deep inside of him. I think that's why Alex has always fascinated me. I couldn't pin him down, profile him, or predict his actions. I never was sure what he meant by what he said or understood his motivations.

 

I could tell that Alex wasn't far in front of me. The bathroom was still steamy from his shower. I wished he had invited me to join him, but I wasn't sure how he felt about me today. I'm not sure how he was feeling yesterday, for that matter. He had said 'I love you', but not until after telling me that he would never touch me again. Of course, he said that it was up to me. All I had to do was accept his judgment instead of my own.

 

That hit me in the face. I didn't know if I could do it. I had never really mastered the art of admitting it when Scully was right. I had seldom listened to Walter. My history with Alex was even worse. In my defense, I am right a lot of the time, maybe too much of the time. I had the brains, the training, the talent to walk into a crime scene and see it as a puzzle, putting the pieces together. Most of the time, I didn't have time to guide anyone else through the process of my thoughts. That's why I had liked working with Scully. I could pull her with me most of the time, even if she was protesting. Alex had been the same way when we were partners and I don't think he was acting the entire time. Now, he was asking me to accept him on faith the way I had expected him to accept me. If it was in me, I was going to do it.

 

As I walked down the stairs, a girl came up towards me. She was no more than twelve, a thin, wiry preteen, but youth aside, she was packing weapons. She said, "Mr. Mulder, I'm Celine. Jeff asked me to bring you to him."

 

"All right," I nodded. We walked out the door and over to a low slung building. I stopped to take another look around me. Every building had heavily barred windows. Walkways ran between the buildings. I could tell that the walkways could be rapidly withdrawn. There were machine gun nests on every roof. The base was set up for defense, even if over run. It was different from the base where I had been living, which relied on exterior defenses as if there was no chance they would fail. I sensed Alex's touch about this place, the admission that plans can fail and backup plans are needed. 

 

Celine opened the heavy door with a key. We walked in and down a hall. I recognized a teddy bear dressed in a white lab coat that used to reside in Pendrell's lab. The oversized coffee cup on the neat desk also seemed familiar. Pendrell, Jeff, and Alex all turned to look at me. I nodded toward the sample that Pendrell was analyzing. "Some more of the vaccine?"

 

Alex crossed his arms and stared at me belligerently. I said, "I don't have a problem with it. These people have as much right to be protected as anyone else."

 

"Perhaps the vaccine can be modified to either kill the Dead from a distance or to cure them," Pendrell said.

 

"You're not bringing any of the Dead in here to experiment on," Jeff and Alex said together.

 

Brian said in a sulky voice, "I wasn't asking."

 

"You start thinking of them as people and you are asking to join them," Alex said. "They're not people. They are animated dead bodies, living vectors for a virus. The people they were are gone and you can't get them back."

 

Brian tried to stare Alex down, but he gave it up, dropping his clear blue gaze. "I know, Alex. It's just that there are so many of them."

 

"Yeah," Alex said, "I know, but preventing more of them from occurring is the best we can do. Along with killing those currently infected. Brian, concentrate on synthesizing the vaccine."

 

"It would have helped if you knew the process for making more," Pendrell said. 

 

"I know," Alex said ruefully. "I barely got out with my life. I don't even know why I took the vaccine. It was just habit."

 

"Why do you think that you and Mulder can handle this on your own?" Jeff asked.

 

"I may need some back up," Alex admitted, "but I don't want to weaken the surviving bases and the more people involved, the harder it will be to get in. With just Mulder and me, we can get in and out."

 

"Do it your way, as always," my brother remarked.

 

"It works for me," Alex said. "It worked for you, Jeff."

 

"Yeah, you got me out," Jeff said. "Saved me from dear old dad."

 

That was something I wanted to know more about, but it wasn't the right time to ask. I was full of unasked questions and it was pissing me off.

 

Pendrell waved us out of his lab, saying, "Let me work."

 

"How's the food holding out?" Alex asked as we made our way outside.

 

"Good," Jeff said. "We expanded to the north and enclosed two farms. With the produce, I was able to bring twenty more people into the enclave. The goats you brought us help out with the milk and we've been raising a lot of chickens for the eggs and a bit of meat."

 

"You made sure that the areas are defensible? The problem with increasing amounts of territory is that defenses weaken with more area to cover."

 

"Alex, you trained me. I hated you during the entire period," Jeff said, "but I learned."

 

I glanced at my brother, wondering about the history he had with Alex. Jeff obviously had been a busy boy since the last time I saw him. "How much longer?" I asked. "How long will we be here?"

 

Alex said, "I'm having some additional modifications done to the hybrid. We'll stay another day."

 

"Jeff," I said, "I don't know if Alex talked to you about us."

 

"I know," Jeff replied. "We're brothers. Not that either of us have fond memories of dad."

 

"Yeah," I said. "We should talk about the way I acted toward you."

 

"Apparently being an arrogant asshole runs in the family," Jeff said. He smiled at Alex when he said it.

 

"Come on," Jeff said. "We can get some breakfast and talk. Alex, Humphrey can take you to have a look at the farm. Let me know if you think my defenses need improvement."

 

I watched Alex move away, watching his ass with a great deal of pleasure until Jeff snorted and tapped my arm. I looked at him and shrugged. "I liked the scenery," I said.

 

"I see," Jeff said.

 

"I didn't even knew you and Pendrell knew each other." 

 

"We met back when," Jeff said. "Didn't really get to know him until Alex brought me here. I guess they had a healer work with him after he was shot. Dad wanted him to work in his lab and it was another way to undermine you, having you and Scully think you got him killed."

 

"Yeah, getting your friends killed does make you want to go it alone," I agreed.

 

We went back to the main house. Breakfast was still being served. I didn't usually eat breakfast, but I had an appetite after eating the kind of food Alex and I could prepare in the hybrid. I filled my plate with scrambled eggs, English muffins, and half of a large rosy peach. I hadn't had a fresh peach in months. I picked up my peach with awe, planning on eating it first so I could taste it without spoiling the flavor with more mundane eggs.

 

"Did Alex eat already?" I asked, worried that he didn't get a peach. 

 

"Yes, he ate when he woke, a couple of hours ago," Jeff said.

 

Sitting down at a table, I savored my peach. The ones in cans didn't taste remotely the same. I blinked, thinking of all the times I had hurried through a grocery store, grabbing a few cans of soup, a frozen pizza, never bothering to walk through all the fresh produce to savor the glories of earth. Now, fresh food was limited. The base had plenty of food, but most of it was processed, canned, freeze dried, dull, and devoid of taste. 

 

Finishing the peach, I tried the eggs. They exploded with flavor. They were the real thing, not powdered. I groaned with pleasure and devoted myself to eating for the next few minutes.

 

"Had enough?" Jeff asked when my plate was empty.

 

"Plenty," I admitted. "Forgot food could taste that good."

 

"Mama Katherine keeps a tight kitchen," Jeff said. "She's one of those who believe an army marches on its stomach. She spoils us. She can even make army rations into decent meals."

 

"You and Brian made this into a good place to live," I said.

 

"Alex too," Jeff said. "He brought me here during the alien wars. He worked as hard as anyone to make it a safe place to live. He stayed with us until we could make it without him. When the war was over, he took off to tie up some loose ends, but told us to stay put."

 

Adam was his loose thread, I thought. He only came to DC to check on his beloved Adam. I suppose I had no reason to be jealous, but I wasn't always a reasonable man. I brought my plate and tray to the counter that led into the busy kitchen. A young teenager nodded at me as he took the dirty dishes to the sink for washing. I had seen an unusual number of children and teens here, more so than the number of adults could account for, no matter how prolific. The entire kitchen crew looked to be somewhere between ten and eighteen. They seemed healthy. I saw teenage hell raising and heard them bitching about the chores, but they were nothing like I was as a teenager. Even as difficult as my life had been, I had been protected to some extent. These children wore the marks of horror and hardship in the scars on their body and in the haunted expressions of their eyes.

 

"I'll show you around," my brother said. I nodded. Jeff's hand brushed my arm as I went by. I turned and looked at him. Jeff said, "Mulder, I never...we never really had a chance to talk. When I was a kid...I always wanted a big brother. Someone to stand up for me. Someone I could go to when Mom wasn't making any sense. Funny that when I met my brother, we hated each other on sight."

 

"We had good reason," I said, bad memories flooding back, the helpless feeling of watching them dismantle a lifetime of work, turning my X-Files over to a prick who couldn't think his way out of a paper bag.

 

"When Alex told me that you were Dad's kid too, I hated you even more. I didn't even have that, being his only son."

 

"It wasn't a privilege I wanted," I said, not able to soft peddle it, not even to build a bridge to this man, my only surviving family, except for William.

 

Jeff nodded. He said, "I know that. I didn't want to have anything to do with him, at first. I couldn't understand why he would leave us the way he did. Why Dad walked away. I believed my mother was insane and that my father had deserted us because of that, leaving a defenseless child, me, to live with a woman who could not, would not give me the life any child needs. She dragged me around the country, sometimes hiding from the UFOs, sometimes seeking them. She would disappear for weeks, leaving me with whatever pathetic lunatics that had befriended her."

 

“I'm really sorry, Jeff," I said, trying to measure my own benighted childhood against his. Mine was half fraud, part horror, all nicely masked as a mannered middle class existence.

 

Jeff swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his long throat. His brown eyes gazed into mine. He nodded and said, "I know. I remember that last time we saw each other before your trial. When I handed in my resignation, I saw something in your eyes - respect. My life was shattering and yet that carried me forward." Jeff gazed over the compound and then said, "Let's walk."

 

I could see how much work went into this place. The base where I had been living was well-run, but this place was meticulous. I saw the way people looked at Jeff and I was glad for him. He had found his courage and found a life here. I saw more young people, some of them well-armed, teenage boys and girls who walked like soldiers.

 

"You have an interesting group here," I said. "A young population."

 

"Yeah, we take as many kids as we can handle. These kids have lived through shit that makes our lives look like a picnic."

 

Following Jeff, I walked along the ramparts that surrounded the compound. He answered his cell phone, sounding concerned. A moment later, he called someone else.

 

Two armored assault vehicles rolled out the gate at Jeff's command. 

 

"Did some of them get through?" I asked. 

 

"Yeah, they knocked down a barricade along the river," Jeff said. "Most of the time that's the least troubled area. The dead can't swim. I guess there were so many of them that they came across the river in a solid mass. We'll have to patrol there more often."

 

"It's going to take a long time for the world to become safe again even after we're all vaccinated," I said.

 

"You don't know the half of it," Jeff said. "Wait until you have to deal with the Right to Deathers."

 

"I hate the fringe groups," I admitted, "even if I was considered a member of one myself because of my UFO investigations. They drove me nuts with their beliefs, the way it drove them to warp their family's lives on the behalf of their fanatical tenets."

 

"I agree," Jeff said. He gestured to a passing soldier and borrowed the boy's binoculars for me.

 

I peered through the binoculars at the distant scene. Jeff's soldiers weren't having a great deal of trouble. The Dead had no cunning. They were dangerous mostly because there were large armies of them. However, that was no reason to dismiss them. The ocean might seem innocent too as you stood on a sunny beach, but it was as vast and implacable as any force of nature. That was the Dead as well, their millions a force that was devouring humanity one enclave at the time. 

 

Three vehicles that looked like tankers with attached cannons moved forward. The assault vehicles flanked them, but stopped shooting. 

 

The odd looking cannons set fire to the mounds of de-animated zombies. Dark smoke sputtered up from the heaped corpses. Some of the still moving Dead staggered into the flames and veered off, crashing into others.

 

Jeff looked away, coughed as if fighting back nausea. He said, "Alex came up with the formula for the incendiary. It's effective."

 

"I see," I said, putting down the binoculars. I raised them again and saw that the mound of corpses was burning hot enough to reduce the bodies to charred bones, looking almost like a heap of burnt branches.

 

The Dead came over the burning bones. The incendiary trucks moved back to allow the heavily armed tanks to attack. Jeff picked up his cell phone and spoke into it. 

 

Moments later, additional tanks rolled out. I watched the slow slaughter of the Dead until they were out of sight. Jeff said, "I'm going to go out, Mulder. Sorry. I have to make sure the breach is closed."

 

"I'll go with you." 

 

"I'll ask Alex," Jeff said.

 

"Jeff, whatever you may have thought . . . ." I suddenly realized how it must have looked last night, Alex and I rushing into that bedroom and not coming out until morning. Ah, shit, everyone on that floor probably heard us. “Alex doesn't make my decisions."

 

Jeff raised a brow then shrugged. "It's your funeral."

 

I thought about Alex's threat and how great last night had been. There are times to stand on your principles and times to let them bend a little. Gee, Ma, look how Mulder has grown up.

 

"You know, Alex might want to come," I suggested. "Let's ask him."

 

Jeff's mouth twitched, but he was smart enough to keep the expression from blooming into a grin. He went back on the cell phone and located Alex.

 

Shortly, Alex strolled up to Jeff and me. He said, "Let's roll. You know, Jeff, I warned you about not getting over confident about the river, especially when there's a drought."

 

"I know," Jeff said. "It will be corrected."

 

"Better be," Alex snapped. He followed Jeff into the slightly smaller version of our hybrid. This one was set up for a larger number of people with no living amenities. I expected Alex to take the wheel, but he allowed Jeff's soldier to drive. He walked around, swiftly checking the weapons.

 

Another of Jeff's people, a blond girl with braids extending from beneath her helmet, said, "Sir, we checked them already."

 

"When my personal survival is concerned, I don't accept anyone's word," Alex said brusquely. He ran through a systems check and then a weapons check before sitting down beside me. He reached over and put his hand on my knee, glanced at me, and nodded. "Thanks for having Jeff ask me along."

 

I nodded. After losing so much, losing Scully, I wasn't ready to lose Alex. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

 

OooOooO

 

Alex and I took one of the weapon stations. He wanted me to get some more practice with mounted weapons. We bumped over the rough ground at a rapid clip until we caught up with the main body of defenders. There were more smoldering heaps of what had been the dead and were now these unidentifiable heaps of burning matter.

 

Alex and I had the advantage when we arrived at the scene. I started firing, at first aiming into the mass indiscriminately. Alex said, "Take a few seconds to aim. Go for the upper chests if you can. There's more chance of shattering the spinal cords that way. Think of your shots as a scythe, slicing through heads of wheat."

 

I grimaced, not liking the comparison. I was still uncomfortable with shooting things that looked like people. Even though I've had months to get used to the idea, it's difficult. I tried to avoid looking at the faces as I fired. The technique Alex suggested destroyed the Dead faster as long as I avoided aiming too high and wasting shot. One sweep in one direction and then a quick swift back seemed to work best. Alex corrected me when I wanted to go back to finish Dead too mangled to stand, but with intact spinal cords. He said, "The incendiary trucks will get those. Leave them."

 

I glared at Alex, not liking him at all in that moment, but I knew he was right. Everything was in limited supply, ammunition, clean water, food, everything but the Dead. I continued to shoot until my eyes grew tired. Alex smoothly took over, the two of us back to that tight teamwork that had operated the few times we had worked together instead of opposing each other.

 

Heavy artillery cleared the opposite side of the river. Alex and I weren't in a good position to fire so we simply observed the battle for now. The mass of Dead had fallen. I noticed that some of the Dead fell in the water and seemed unable to swim. They floated down the river flailing helplessly.

 

Scowling, Jeff said, "We're going to have to get them out of the river. We have several good wells, but we use the river too."

 

"What brings so many of the Dead out like this?" I asked.

 

Alex answered, "Generally, the Dead surround enclaves like this. When one falls, they attack the living. Those that are intact enough to rise swell their ranks and then the entire hungry hoard instinctively move on. Since they don't sleep nor do they starve to death, they will travel until they sense the living. They move until they find us. This attack is probably the result of a town falling."

 

"No one has heard from Butte for several weeks," Jeff said.

 

"Bad news," Alex said. "I thought that they were over confident though. Too many people trying to live like it was yesterday."

 

"I heard from one of our liaisons that there was a missionary for the Right to Deathers talking to people," Jeff said.

 

"Should have shot the bastard," Alex said. 

 

I agreed with Alex on that point. How the hell could a message that you should go out and let zombies munch on you be popular? Eternal life as the walking Dead? I would rather never have been born. People gave in to it because of the long months of fear since the Dead first walked. Some people were so desperate for any kind of salvation they would cling to anything, no matter how insane the belief.

 

At last, the Dead were pushed back to beyond the opposite bank of the river. After the incendiary crews disposed of the bodies, the repair crews rebuilt the fence. I wasn't eager to get out of the hybrid. I knew that the Dead smelled like burning carrion when we cremated them. This was going to be sickening.

 

Jeff tossed me a mask. I took it and smiled in gratitude. Alex accepted a mask and handed me a machine gun. He said, "In case, we missed any."

 

Walking over to the fence, we covered Jeff as he inspected the fence. He shook his head and said, "It looks as if the Dead kept pressing against the fence until the sheer mass of them knocked it down. We'll have to make it stronger and patrol more often."

 

"Yeah," Alex said. "Make sure that you keep a long term watch on anyone you take in. Even the kids. One Right to Deather could kill you all. Beware of sleepers; I could see a case where someone might blend into your community for months, even years, before acting. You have to continue to enforce psychological testing on everyone frequently."

 

"Live without trusting anyone," Jeff commented.

 

"The operative word is live," Alex pointed out.

 

"I know," my brother said, but his eyes were not gazing fondly on Alex. I knew the feeling. Even if you love Alex, there are good reasons not to like him at times.

 

OooOooO

 

Alex and I took long showers when we returned to the enclave. Alex said that we should get some sleep. Despite a naked Alex in bed with me, my thoughts weren't sexual. I didn't think I could sleep and wondered why we were trying to nap. As I stared at the ceiling, trying to keep my mind from racing, wondering if my son was safe, wondering if the vaccine would help defeat the Dead, if we could at last have a world without the constant threat of aliens and the loathsome disease of the Dead. 

 

"Mulder," Alex whispered.

 

"I'm not asleep," I said. I turned toward Alex. He moved toward me, embracing me. I was against his shoulder and stroked my fingers down his arm. I felt a faint trace of scars just below the shoulder. That was where his original arm joined the one the aliens had grown for him. I kissed him there, not meant to be an arousing gesture. I felt such tenderness for him and I wanted to comfort him. Maybe I was asking for him to do the same to me.

 

"Ah, Mulder," Alex murmured. He rolled back over on his back, bringing me with him. "I do love you."

 

I was surprised to hear that again. He had said it once, but I thought it was the kind of thing men will say after sex, sometimes even after sex with each other. My own feelings for Alex were in chaos. I had wanted him. I needed him with a bone-deep craving such as I had never known before. It was nothing like the sweet warmth of the love that I had for Scully. That had been a love which started and ended as friendship. This was passion; ancient blood feuds mingling with the arousal I had always felt in his presence. 

 

Over the past few days, I felt myself letting Alex under my skin. I could see him as more than a lover. I found myself treating Alex as a partner, a friend. It bothered me how quickly my feelings had changed. Then I was bothered by myself, that some part of me could accept sleeping with an enemy, but not changing my feelings toward him and making him a friend. 

 

My head was pillowed on his chest. I could hear his heart beat, feel the gentle stroke of his hand through my hair. "Go to sleep, Mulder, go to sleep. I'm gonna take care of you. We will take care of each other."

 

OooOooO

 

I woke much later. My head still rested on his chest. When I stirred, Alex caught his breath, uttering a gasp as if I had frightened him. I felt his body tense and then he forced himself to relax. Good thing. I think he could have hurt me. 

 

"You okay?" I asked, moving over so Alex could breathe. He slowly rolled over, reversing our positions until his body pinned me down. On the other hand, breathing was over-rated. His hands moved over me, mapping my body. I guided his lips to mine, opened mine to invite his tongue. His kiss was deep, hard, reminding me that I was very much alive. He lifted away, looking down at me. His eyes raked over my body and I felt their gaze like a caress. 

 

"Fuck me," I invited.

 

Alex's eyes widened. "You ever been fucked?"

 

"Anything you can do, I can do better," I said. Then I said, "Yeah, I've done that before, just not for a long time."

 

"Then let's make this a good memory," Alex said. His kisses rained down on me, his hands controlling me as they explored me. His teeth gently tugged at my nipples. I arched, impatient for more even as I savored the sweet sharp bursts of pleasure and pain. I could feel the rasp of his stubble as he worked his way down my body. 

 

"I love your cock," Alex said.

 

I was pretty fond of it myself even if I didn't always treat it right. His eyes glittered up at me as I propped myself up on the pillows to watch him suck me. He fluttered his eyelashes, a damn powerful weapon in his arsenal and bent to take me in his mouth. His tongue worked over the head of my cock as his fingers gently moved over me. He took me deep into him, wetting my cock down its entire length. My eyes closed in pleasure even though I wanted to watch him. He played with me, his tongue outlining the rim around my cock head, flicking the tag of skin where I had been circumcised. 

 

I felt his finger slowly flicker around my anus. He didn't go in yet, just slowly circled, playing with me. It felt strange, but I still remembered how good it felt to be fucked. I was able to relax enough for him to slowly work inside with one finger. 

 

"I want to come with you in me," I told Alex - which wasn't going to happen if he kept going down on me as he was doing. 

 

"You might not be able to," Alex said, looking up at me, face slick with my pre-come. 

 

"I can," I said. "I will."

 

Alex laughed and said, "Don't say I didn't warn you. It doesn't matter. There's going to be lots of time. We'll make sure of that."

 

"Turn around," Alex said, his voice husky. 

 

I sprawled over the towel covered pillows as Alex probed me with his tongue. I loved what he was doing to me. Now this was new. I wasn't sure if I would be able to ever return the favor, but it shook me through and through to feel his tongue probe into me. I moaned, trying to resist humping the pillows. 

 

Alex used his tongue like a small cock, fucking me with it, forcing his tongue as deep in me as it would go. I shuddered and said, "Alex, much as I love this, you better fuck me soon if I'm going to have my wish."

 

His finger replaced his tongue. I heard the drawer open and the small sound of the lube being opened. His slick finger moved in and out of me, my hips moving with him. I knew I was ready, long before he thought so. I was yelling at him for more long before he moved over me, his cock filling me.

 

Alex felt huge in me, but I didn't lose my erection. He pulled me up, our bodies moving together as I braced myself against the wall. One of his hands reached for me, moving in rhythm with his thrusts. I arched around for a kiss, our lips meeting, our moans vibrating against each other's mouths. I knew we were prolonging this, teasing each other with the promise of coming. His thrusts were shallow, giving me time to adjust to him, but it wasn't enough. I moved back down, face pressed into the bed, hips thrust up for his pleasure. 

 

I welcomed the small amount of pain as a spice to our love making. His cock angling against my prostate wasn't the only reason this thrilled me. I wanted him inside me; his cock making a glove of my body. Listening to him, feeling him, I had this fantasy that when I came it would be him coming through me. I loved his hard body pressed to mine, just the faintest softness of belly against my back. I loved the rasp of his hair against me, the surge of his muscles. 

 

"Mulder," Alex gasped. Oh God, his voice, I loved to hear him like this. He was fucking me, but I understood what he felt when I did this with him. I had absolute control over him. He knew I was the one giving this to him, making him feel this way. 

 

Alex moved faster inside me. I tried to wait for him, but my cock had other ideas. I could feel the blinding pleasure start, not just in my cock, but in my ass, through my entire body. His hand kept me with him. I could hear his voice, my voice crying each other's names. When I came, the world exploded away. Every nerve of my body sang. I didn't want it to end, but then I was limp and boneless, almost not feeling his last thrusts. 

 

We rolled to face each other afterward. His leg was over mine, his foot stroking down me. We said nothing, just held each other, the aftershocks of pleasure slowly ebbing. 

 

"Thank you," we said together. I smiled at that. 

 

"Let's go take a shower," Alex said, about fifteen minutes later. 

 

My ass was sore now. I didn't feel like moving. Alex laughed softly and said, "Mulder, the hot water will help."

 

I let him pull me up and lead me in there. We didn't have the energy to play much, but I still liked his hands on me, the intimacy of being washed like he was doing. I spread my legs again to let him work a washcloth over me. I felt his fingers spread me gently.

 

"I'm okay," I said, knowing Alex was checking to make sure he didn't hurt me. 

 

"Yeah, just wanted to be sure," Alex said. He kissed my neck and added, "I knew we would be good together."

 

 

"You were wrong," I replied turning around. Alex looked petulantly at me until I said, "We aren't just good together; we're fantastic together."

 

I loved his smile. I loved him. We were going to stay together even if we had to save the earth to do it.

 

OooOooO

 

Alex wanted to leave at dawn. In the old days, the remainder of the trip would have taken less than a full day. Even with the information as piecemeal as it was, we knew our journey would take longer. Some of the major freeways were unusable, either hopelessly blocked with wrecked vehicles or so heavily infested with the Dead that we would be immobilized by them, no matter how many we killed.

 

Jeff and Alex bent over detailed maps on Alex's PDA, adding details from explorations. I leaned over Alex's shoulder, enjoying the closeness and regretting that soon we would have few chances to touch each other as we drove the hybrid across the rest of Montana. I memorized the route so that we would still have all the details if something happened to the PDA. 

 

We had to bypass most of Interstate 90 and travel on smaller highways until we passed Moscow, Idaho. The area around Moscow was a mess, few survivors and those left were as dangerous as the Dead. There were roving bands of survivalists preying on both entrenched enclaves and those few people traveling the roads. They made it impossible for the settlements to control the ravenous hoards of zombies.

 

We would have to cross an area around Butte where the Right to Deathers prevailed. There was no way to get around it without adding days to our trip. Neither of us were interested in that option.

 

Last night, I was finally able to reach Mark Van de Kamp via the internet. I learned that they were still holding out, but they were running low on ammunition. They believed they could hold out for a week, but no longer. If I thought we could do it, I would have begged to drive straight through on Interstate 90.

 

I hugged Jeff and then Pendrell as Alex and I prepared to leave. The hybrid was polished as if brand new. We had enough food for at least a month. Danny had even found me canned iced tea. Most importantly, we had as much fuel and ammunition as we could carry. The weight slowed us down a little, but even I had to admit it was the best thing to do.

 

We rolled out with a complement of smaller assault vehicles. They would accompany us until we reached Bozeman and then split away. That would save our ammunition for later. Alex took the first shift driving. I still was more alert at night than Alex was. If I had four hours of sleep a night, I was good. I had always been like that, but it had become more pronounced after the artifact awakened my alien genes.

 

I wasn't remotely tired after all the time we had spent resting. I think I slept more in those two nights at Jeff and Brian's compound than I had slept in the six months previous. I would have been bored shitless except for the intrinsic rewards of staying in bed with Alex.

 

The other assault vehicles fanned out, clearing the road until we reached a long stretch of deserted highway. They turned back there, lights blinking in silent salute to us. We went forward. I sat beside Alex, watching the endless stretch of road. 

 

Alex said, "Funny. I've driven down this road so many times at night. It's not that different. I used to go miles without seeing anyone."

 

"Same here," I said, remembering the handful of cases Scully and I had in this area. I seldom let her drive. I remembered her company, sometimes arguing about cases, other times she slept beside me, her perfectly made-up face slack with slumber. We had been partners, not always sweet to each other, but always connected. Even our separation hadn't changed that. In some ways, it had been a relief, returning to a relationship that felt comfortable instead of one where I felt I could never meet Scully's needs. A wave of sadness inundated me. I missed her. I would always miss her.

 

I reached over, putting my hand on Alex's knee. I had him. It was not the same relationship I had with Scully, but we were partners now. He glanced at me and smiled slightly. 

 

"Someday, we won't be running and fighting for our lives," Alex said.

 

"Bullshit. I think we'll always have one cause or another crying for our help. That's who we are."

 

"I love who you are, Mulder.”

 

"I love you too," I said, meaning it, meaning that I could handle the past now. Every stumble Alex made had led us here. He was forged by the hardships he had suffered and driven by the mistakes he had made. I knew he wasn't perfect, but neither was I. 

 

OooOooO

 

I had taken over driving after several hours. It was twilight and neither of us was happy with the amount of miles. We had to leave the road for a couple hours, finding a twisted knot of semi trucks blocking the freeway. It was near a truck stop and I could see a couple of the Dead stumbling toward us, drawn by the sound of our engine. The Dead weren't good problem solvers, but they had strong instincts and could recognize human generated noise. I imagine that the Dead had wandered on to the freeway and the truckers had swerved, not realizing that the people they were trying to save were no longer human.

 

I wondered how the virus had mutated. I had never fully understood how the super soldiers were made, but I knew it was through an alien derived virus. I thought about the state I was in when Walter and Scully took me from my grave. From their description, I had been close to the state that the Dead fell into before they rose. The thought scared and sickened me...it always had. But the loathing I felt for myself when I thought about rising as one of the Dead was twice as strong as that I felt about becoming a super soldier.

 

From what Alex described, the virus had mutated in one individual. The Project scientists hadn't even been sure what was wrong. They expected the man to rise, but not to remain in his decaying state and certainly not to be an uncontrollable monster.

 

I don't see how Spender could have thought the Dead would make any kind of weapon. Hadn't he seen their mindless savagery? How could he believe they could be controlled? 

 

It was yet another case of Frankenstein's monster taking revenge on his creator. Spender's fate had been too clean and easy. He should have become victim to the creatures he let live. 

 

 

OooOooO

 

I drove through the night until Alex woke. I heard him use the bathroom. We used a chemical toilet. It took too much water to run the traditional flush toilet. We did have water to wash with, even a meager shower with a recyclable water source. Alex made himself a sandwich and a cup of coffee, coming to sit in the passenger seat to have his meal.

 

"Any trouble?" Alex asked.

 

"No," I said. "None at all. I saw some lights off in the distance a while back, but it was too far away to check."

 

"There are some scattered small enclaves. Fewer every day though."

 

"That's going to change" 

 

"Hopefully," Alex said. He finished eating and said, "Ready to switch?"

 

We could have changed places without stopping. The Hybrid had excellent automatic steering, but since there was no need on this isolated road, we stopped. Alex kissed me, his mouth tasted of chicken salad, then he took the driver's seat and we resumed our journey.

 

 

OooOooO

 

 

I had slept a while, surprising myself. I sensed the Hybrid had stopped and went to see what the problem was. 

 

We were perched on a rise off the main road and hidden by a stand of pine. I could see why Alex had stopped. Below us, several vehicles were circled. I could see a number of the Dead pressed against a sturdy fence. There was some sort of electronic lock on a gate. A man and woman stood, looking stoned and blissful in white gowns. A teenage boy and girl clung to each other, faces frozen in terror. The adults seemed to have volunteered for their fate and the teenagers looked as if they had no other choice and no will to fight. Not so the girl that several of the robed people dragged from a vehicle. She was kicking and screaming the entire way. I don't think she wanted to join the Dead.

 

I moved toward the weapons, thinking I could pick off the girl's attackers before they opened that gate. Alex stood quickly and stopped me. He said, "You do that and we'll end up shooting her. We're going to have to wait until they take off."

 

I wanted to argue, but I saw his point. Those vehicles were armed and they would fire back. "How do you know they will take off? Maybe they hang around and watch the conversion?"

 

By this time, they had beaten the girl into submission, tying her to a post. 

 

Alex said, "They don't hang around. If they do, they'll end up being overrun or having to fight. These people don't believe in killing the Dead. They regard them as God's promise of eternal life. Sick fucks...."

 

Alex's voice fell to a low growl as he spoke of the Right to Deathers. He couldn't have despised them more than I did. Alex pulled out from behind the trees as the vehicles below turned away. There was a rough road down the hill. I wished we could move faster as I saw the gate swing open. 

 

The family walked forward to meet the Dead, smiling beatifically. At the last moment, the girl snapped out of it, screamed and ran. When she ran, the boy, probably her brother also panicked. The parents seemed confused, but not for long as the first of the Dead caught up with them.

 

The Dead were momentarily distracted by feasting on the parents. They crowded around them until no further zombie could press in. At that point, the Dead realized there was more prey and went after the boy. He stumbled and I realized that we weren't going to be in time to save him. 

 

I started to fire, taking down some of the boy's attackers. It didn't help as a fast moving Dead teenager caught up with him. He fell and was mobbed by the hungry zombies. 

 

Alex grunted and swung the hybrid into position between the girl and the Dead. She was trying to fight free of her bonds, but couldn't manage. 

 

"I have to help her," I said.

 

"No," Alex said.

 

"Alex, please," I said. "I won't be able to live with it if you don't let me help her."

 

It must have been the right thing to say. Alex pulled closer yet and I jumped out, using my survival knife to sever the ropes. She clawed at me, not processing that I was trying to help her. I finally punched her and dragged her inside. The other girl had picked up a large branch and was swinging it at one of the Dead. I had been noticing something odd about these zombies. They seemed to be in worse shape than most of the Dead, with more body parts missing. The one nearest the girl had a mass of white almost covering one side of its body. She swung hard, causing whatever it was to splatter in all directions. That side of the body caved in and the Dead fell.

 

The girl ran in our direction. Alex aimed his rounds at her pursuer, the shots sounding like a crack of thunder combined with the sound of melons splattering. He was an incredible shot; I could have watched him for the sheer beauty of it except I had to concentrate on driving.

 

The second girl swerved like a jackrabbit when two of the faster Dead veered toward her from different directions. I hear two of the thunderous blasts. The two zombies fell, but so did the girl. My heart stood still. 

 

Damn.

 

Then Alex was running, stopping to fire once before scooping the girl up. She hung on for dear life as Alex ran at incredible speed. He tossed her in the door and then manned the machine guns. I could see the Dead dropping, a lot of them falling to pieces as the line of fire passed through them.

 

"Should I head out of here?" I yelled, trying to be heard over the gun fire. 

 

"No, I have to get something," Alex asked.

 

The two girls were huddled together, crying softly. I yelled, "Don't be afraid. We'll take care of you."

 

It didn't help much although the first girl managed to stop crying. 

 

Alex said, "Move the hybrid around between that large group of the Dead and the ones I killed. Come on, Mulder. Hurry up."

 

I still didn't know what Alex was after, but I still obeyed. Alex jumped out with a plexi-glass container. Okay, he was collecting lab specimens? What the hell?

 

Alex said, "Okay, get going, Mulder!"

 

"What did you do?" I asked, but I could drive and talk at the same time.

 

"Those maggots...they were eating the Dead," Alex explained.

 

"Yeah? Well, that can't happen, can it?" I said. That was part of the reason the Dead proliferated. Something in their bodies resisted decay and the friendly forces that broke down dead matter, including the maggots of the common blowfly. 

 

"Mulder, you're the last one to disbelieve without seeing for yourself," Alex replied.

 

"Yeah, I love you too," I said, wondering if he knew I meant it.

 

Alex walked over to the first girl we rescued and said, "What's your name?"

 

"Vesta Robinson," the badly bruised teenager said. She looked about fifteen and was very thin.

 

"Why did they put you and those other people out there to be killed?" Alex said.

 

I listened although I already knew that the children were members of the Right To Death cult.

 

"Those crazy bastards believe that only the pure become Dead. They think that the dead are the risen bodies promised to us and that they really walk in paradise," Vesta said scornfully.

 

"You don't sound as if you ever believed," Alex said.

 

"She's not one of the Pure," the other girl said. She sobbed to herself and said, "I guess I'm not either. My parents said if you were Pure you wouldn't be afraid and that being converted would bring no pain. I was afraid though and I made Joshua afraid too."

 

"She's Jordan," Vesta said. "She and her brother were born to those stupid people. I wasn't. My parents and I were looking for a safe place to start over. We saw New Jerusalem. It looked like a fine place to stay. Everyone was very kind to us, but they came for us in the middle of the night. They took my parents and my older brother out to those monsters, but I was only twelve. They wait until you are teenager so your purity is tested before they send you out to become one of the Dead."

 

"She and Joshua were making eyes at each other," Jordan said. "Mom and Dad were afraid that Joshua wouldn't be pure enough if they waited longer."

 

"Vesta, if the adults believe that becoming Dead is a good thing, why don't they all walk out and let themselves be eaten," I asked.

 

"Everyone can't become Pure at once," Jordan said. "Most of the adults are needed to catch the unbelievers and teach them the way of God. They have to go to the outlying farms and the other towns and do their missions."

 

"Capture sane people and drag them back to be eaten. Take the kids and teach them their crazy religion," Vesta said.

 

I liked Vesta. She had to be intelligent to resist being converted. She must have hidden her beliefs from her captors, not an easy thing for a child to do.

 

"I guess I became impure because Vesta and I are best friends," Jordan said. 

 

"I made you think a little," Vesta said. "If your Mom and Dad hadn't caught us kissing, Joshua and I were going to make a run for it, try to take you with us. I know there are still some places where you can stay alive and where there's enough to eat, real schools, places like that."

 

"We should take the girls back to Jeff," I said.

 

"No need to backtrack," Alex said. "There's another enclave on the Flathead Indian reservation. They can help the girls. That way we won't lose any time."

 

Moving back to Vesta, Alex showed her the maggots. He said, "Vesta, have you seen members of the Dead infected by these? Have any of the grownups been talking about the Dead being destroyed by maggots?"

 

"Yes, I heard the Elders talking about it," Vesta said. "They were arguing about what it meant. Some of them think that the only ones who get the maggots weren't pure enough."

 

Alex snorted in contempt. He said, "Did they say that some of the Dead were destroyed?"

 

"I heard that," Jordan said, apparently eager to gain some praise from Alex. "Some of the hunters were talking about finding a whole bunch of the Converted eaten almost totally by the maggots. I think they were excited by it, like they were happy that the Converted were being killed."

 

"Only problem is finding out if the maggots will devour the living as well as the Dead," Alex remarked. He frowned, glanced at me as if he had come up with a solution he knew I wouldn't approve.

 

"We'll find an adult volunteer," I said firmly. I saw something moving slowly along the side of the road and drove closer. It was one of the Dead although almost unrecognizable as such. A moving blanket of maggots covered most of it. Bare bone showed through breaks in the feasting larvae. Adult blowflies still buzzed around it. It staggered and fell, crawled a few inches and then lay twitching. 

 

Its legs were reduced to a few shreds of ligament and bones. There wasn’t enough muscle tissue to move its limbs. One thing we knew. Skeletal Dead do not exist. First of all, once the brain is gone, pulverized, or enough of it disrupted by a bullet, the Dead stop. Secondly, the muscles are necessary for the Dead to be mobile. I had seen examples of the Dead still walking with large chunks missing from torsos, but they needed intact legs to walk. 

 

Even with Alex's explanation of how the Dead had come to be, it still didn't explain why the Dead, unlike the super soldiers, were infectious. Nor do I understand why the Dead were immune to the magnetite that had killed their intelligent and more human cousins.

 

I drove on. The road was clear, some times as the result of post-plague efforts. I could see where human effort had cleared the roads, pushing derelict vehicles aside. There were even road side shrines with white crosses. Occasionally, I could see scaffolds in the trees with eagle feathers hanging from them. 

 

"It looks like there's an organized effort here," I said.

 

"Yeah, the Flatheads are doing well. They figured it out pretty quickly like most of the tribes did. They’ve been slowly moving out, destroying the Dead as they go. They can keep the girls safe. I'll send the maggots back with some of their runners. They use vehicles for longer distances same as the rest of us," Alex explained.

 

We didn't progress too much further before a loudly whooping group of Native Americans on horse back greeted us.

 

Jordan started to cry loudly, terrified of what she called 'the savages’."

 

Vesta hugged her friend, but told her at the same time, "Jordan, don't be stupid. At least the savages don't turn their children over to the Dead."

 

Alex chuckled and said, "That's certainly true. Most of the Indian tribes are doing well at clearing their territory of the Dead. Since hunting remains a way of life and many of the men have military experience, they were well suited to survive."

 

"How are they going to feel about two non Native girls?" I asked.

 

"The tribal chief, Douglas Allard, owes me a few favors," Alex said. "He'll take care of the girls until we can collect them again, presuming they will want to leave by the time we come back this way."

 

I liked Alex's confidence. He seemed to have no doubt that we would accomplish our mission. Alex sat down next to me and picked up the speaker. He said into the loudspeaker, "This is Alex Krycek, a friend of Chief Allard. I have some medicine and ammunition to trade."

 

The Indians were mostly young adults, men for the most part, but a few of the hard faced people were female. I think I was a little surprised, as I assumed that these people were reverting to previous cultural patterns.

 

The leader of this group was female. She had a long scar going from her forehead to her chin. We stopped the hybrid and Alex opened the door. He stepped out to allow the woman to search the hybrid, apparently they were familiar with the Right to Deathers.

 

The woman pointed at the girls and said, "You rescued some Right to Deathers?"

 

"I'm not one of them!" Vesta said loudly.

 

"Me neither," Jordan said, adding in a small voice. "Not any more."

 

The light skinned Native woman smiled. She said, "Well good for you. I'm Debbie Allard, Alex. Don't you remember me?"

 

"You're Debbie?" Alex remarked. "Wow, you grew up!"

 

"And you grew another arm," the woman said sharply.

 

"Yes, I did," Alex said. "That's a long story."

 

"My dad will be glad to see you," Debbie Allard said. "He always said if anyone made it through all the troubles, you did."

 

Alex smiled again. He said, "We don't have much time, Debbie. Mulder and I have to get to the San Juan Islands. There's a medicine there that can stop you from becoming one of the Dead."

 

"Can it change someone back?" Debbie asked.

 

"Sorry, no, did you lose someone?" Alex said.

 

"We all lost people," Debbie said. "We don't let our people wander the earth without resting. They were the first we hunted down and sent to the better land."

 

"That's the best you can do for them," Alex said. 

 

"We know," Debbie said.

 

OooOooO

 

Doug Allard was a big man with long, thin hair, which he wore braided down his back. He wore a cowboy hat with an eagle feather in the band. He stood well over six feet tall, probably six foot six. He was light skinned with grey eyes, but had features I associated with Native Americans.

 

Allard hugged Alex so hard that I wondered if he and Alex had more of a past than I thought. Watching him with his wife, I decided I didn't have to worry about Allard and Alex. 

 

I tried to wrap my mind around Alex having friends like anyone else. I think I didn't fully understand that my lover was as human as I was, with a history, friends, and foibles. I should just be glad that I was his main foible.

 

OooOooO

 

It was easy to slip away while Alex was still eating and talking with members of the tribal elders. I walked back to the hybrid and went to the container of maggots. Alex had provided some road kill for the creatures to devour and they seemed perfectly healthy in the container. I found a Petri dish and bared my arm, holding some of the maggots captive against my flesh. Nothing happened except my arm hairs all stood up from the horrible sensation. I waited, giving them time to start eating me if they were going to do it. They rolled around, looking for escape or dinner, but apparently I wasn't what they wanted to eat.

 

Still waiting, I sat down, closed my eyes, weary from the long day.

 

A slap woke me up from my doze. Alex stood in front of me in a total rage.

 

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Alex demanded.

 

"Being a test subject."

 

"You couldn't fucking wait? You have to take a chance like that?" 

 

"I'm fine," I pointed out, "except my face is going to be bruised. Why did you hit me?"

 

"Because you are an idiot," Alex said. "You're too important to take chances like this."

 

"Other than my importance to my son, why am I important? I'm not the savior of earth, Alex. I guess if anyone is, you are."

 

Alex's eyes watered and he sank down, holding my legs, pressing his head against them. His choked voice said, "You're important to me. I love you. I've always loved you. You manage to get yourself killed; how am I supposed to live?"

 

Damn. I hadn't realized. I thought...I don't know what I thought. I sank down, hugging Alex. The Petri dish fell on the floor of the hybrid.

 

"I'll be careful," I swore. "I'll stay alive if you will."

 

The sound that came from Alex was half sob, half laugh. He said, "Deal."

 

I guess I have a lot to live for. Right now, I have the fate of the world in my arms and his name is Alex.

 

OooOooO

 

When Alex pulled away, I could see the walls coming back up. He hated admitting weakness and he had just left himself vulnerable. I said, "Alex, I wouldn't blame you if you gave up on me. I wasn't thinking. It seemed like the right thing to do."

 

Alex glanced at me, his eyes sharp; then he picked up the maggots that had fallen. He carefully placed them back in the container. He held them longer than necessary and I almost smiled. We're alike in so many ways.

 

"I won't give up on you," Alex said. "I didn't tell you not to do that so you didn't disobey a command. But from now on, you ask me before you decide to experiment with your life."

 

"We're going to spend the night here," Alex said. "Doug sent some of his people to collect more of the maggots. He'll seed them around here and we’ll drop them where we go. Never thought maggots would be man's best friend."

 

I didn't like spending the night. I was worried about William, but I wasn't going to argue. Those maggots could be the start of reclaiming the world for the living.

 

Combing my hands through my hair, I said, "Tell your friends not to kill the Dead who are heavily infested. They'll spread the infestation as they go."

 

"Good idea, Mulder," Alex's low voice said.

 

"I don't suppose that your friend wants us to help?" I asked.

 

"Mulder, don't press your luck," Alex said.

 

We moved toward the bed. It was the first time we would share it, although I suspected that Alex had asked for the customized bed with the idea that we would sleep together. We undressed each other and turned to face each other, nose to nose, reminding me of some of our violent confrontations. I reached out, smoothing a line from his chin along his shoulder. I pulled him closer and we leaned into each other.

 

Instead of kissing me as I expected, Alex traced my lips with a gentle touch. He rubbed his cheek against mine, the rasp reminded me that it was late in the day and we had not shaved since morning. Next, Alex gave me a butterfly kiss with his lashes, the sensation incredible. I cupped his head with my hand and guided his lips to mine when he attempted to rub noses. 

 

I could feel his mouth moving. There was a vibration from his chest. He was laughing at me as we kissed, but I didn't care. Every time we made love it was different and I thought it was wonderful, especially since Alex's infinite variety seemed without artifice. Playful Alex though was someone I hoped I would meet often. 

 

Humming, Alex moved down my body. Sensation overwhelmed me and then I realized he was humming something I knew - ”Back in the USSR” by the Beatles. My laughter joined his until he settled to flick his tongue over my nipples. He circled the sensitive flesh, nibbled lightly, stretching me. I could feel the warmth of his breath, the slide of his wet tongue. It seems as if I came to life inch by inch as he kissed and caressed me. When I tried to return his loving touch, he snarled and held my hands down for a moment. All right...Alex was in control. I surrendered and it felt wonderful; should have done this long ago.

 

His mouth slid over my cock, taking me deep, waiting for my hips to helplessly follow him when he took all that warm, wet wonderfulness away. His thumbs stroked the inner recesses of my thighs. I opened for him, my feet firm on the bed, lifting me toward him.

 

I wanted to fuck him, I thought, or be fucked, but it wasn't going to go that way. Whatever...it was all good. I gripped the bedding to keep from gripping Alex. I could hear, feel our ragged deep breaths. As an aerobic exercise, this beat the hell out of running.

 

I wanted, craved, was desperate for Alex to move quicker. He read me instantly, giving me all I needed. 

 

The need was overwhelming. I was so near, ah . . . the pressure inside me throbbed and I needed just a little more. 

 

Alex's mouth rose and fell rapidly. I was going to come. My cock jerked hard. I could feel Alex's tongue circling my head and then he just held on while I bucked, writhed, and swore. Alex took as much as he could handle then let me finish, spilling over his face and my belly.

 

Coming, I fell back. If the Dead had come after me at that moment, I would have been unable to move.

 

Alex lifted my legs over his shoulders, taking me with minimal preparation. It didn't matter. I was so boneless that it was a wonder that he found enough resistance to enjoy himself. My cock gave a lazy twitch when his cock stroked over my prostate, but it was over too soon for me to be ready for more. 

 

Lying in each other's arms, all my fears and worries were fucked out of me. I didn't want to think. My world was here and, just for now, that was all I wanted to think about.

 

OooOooO

 

I woke when Alex slapped my ass. "Ouch," I said, getting up and rubbing the sore spot. 

 

"We can use Doug's shower," Alex said. "Come on."

 

I washed enough to be decent before dressing and followed Alex out.

 

It wasn't even really dawn. The sky was lighter than the night sky, but the sun hadn't appeared. Despite that, the reservation was a buzz with activity. 

 

I saw a large vat of writhing maggots ready to load. "Did you lose anyone getting those?" I asked.

 

"Nope," Doug Allard answered. He has a big mug of coffee in one hand. 

 

Off to one side, I saw Vesta. She wore jeans and a flannel shirt. Someone had found her boots. Her hair had been cut very short. The other girl was dressed in a similar way. They were with Debbie Allard. I think she had taken them under her wing.

 

"Morning, Vesta, Jordan," I said.

 

"My name isn't Jordan anymore," the girl asserted. "Debbie said I could change it. I'm Jo. Like in the book."

 

"Little Women," Vesta said. "It was on the evil book list because Jo used a boy's name and did boy's things. Jor...Jo's family didn't believe in females doing things, not even before the plague settled. I found a copy though and Jo read it with me."

 

Debbie smiled at the girls and winked. I wondered whether the girls might be dangerous in the small community. The Right to Deathers movement had spread in part by enclaves rescuing wanderers who later proselytize the religion. As insane as the religion was, it didn't take a mass conversion to endanger an enclave. One or two maniacs could destroy everyone. All you had to do was to leave a gate open. The Dead would do the rest.

 

"Go get Mr. Mulder some coffee, Vesta," Debbie said.

 

"Okay," the girl said. Both ran off. 

 

"You're keeping a close eye on them?" I said.

 

"Always," Debbie said. "We don't let many non tribal members in, but if we do, they are always watched until we're sure that they have become part of the tribe. If they give us any doubt, we give them weapons and set them out far from our territory. They try to come back; we kill them."

 

"That's wise," I said. I could see why these people accepted Alex. They seemed to be as pragmatic as Alex. There was a day when I would never have accepted that, but in the days since the end of the invasion and this day of the Dead, I had learned a lot about the nature of survival. I also learned that I wanted to survive. 

 

I looked out over the flat landscape and blinked. There was a herd of buffalo grazing. Along the edge of the herd, something white walked.

 

Debbie followed my gaze and smiled. Her expression was awestruck. She said, "A year ago the white buffalo calf was born. He is strong and healthy. He stayed white, showing that he is the sacred buffalo that has come to help in these dark days."

 

I nodded. Whatever helped them find the will to fight and survive. Several dogs dragged travois behind them, bringing supplies into the village. Alex came wandering over, eating a bowl of hot cereal. He said, "Didn't take them long to go back to the old ways. Dogs make handy helpers, not that they are giving up on horses. They save gas for emergency usage."

 

A couple of young men hauled the supply of maggots into the hybrid. They looked happy. I fought back my anger. Perhaps it was better to have enemies you could fight and defeat. I hadn't seen anyone in the village who did not have clear eyes, a proud carriage. I remembered the fat, sick appearing Indians that I had seen when I investigated cases on reservations. They were gone; those who survived transformed into strong, healthy fighters. 

 

Debbie must have read my thoughts. She ran her fingers along the scar on her face. She said, "Our entire lives were disasters. The aliens and the Dead were something we could fight. We can fight them good."

 

Her teeth flashed white as Debbie grinned. "It's a good day to die, as the Lakota say, but it's an even better one to live and fight. We're going to be okay here. You go get your kid and come back here. We will welcome you into the tribe."

 

"Alex and I...." 

 

"We know about Alex. Two spirited, the man of many lies and many truths," Debbie said.

 

The girls came back with coffee and a bowl of the same cereal Alex was eating. I took it and went to sit on a folding chair to eat it. Debbie followed. Her father was talking to Alex, his hand on my lover's shoulders.

 

"How did your dad and you meet Alex?" I asked.

 

"He came blowing through town in 1994, asked my Dad for work. We could tell he was running, but it didn't make any difference to us. He worked hard and he didn't make any trouble," Debbie said. She touched the scar on her face and said, "One night I wanted to go see my friend's kittens. It was night and Dad wouldn't drive me. I was mad and went any way. I decided to walk. I was crossing the road and some white guys grabbed me. I was ten years old. I didn't even have breasts yet, but they said stuff to me, calling me an Indian whore. Next thing I knew, Alex was fighting them. He broke them up pretty good. Some of the other guys from the rez came out. The white guys...well, there wasn't a trial. No publicity. They just disappeared." 

 

 

Debbie's look offered me a challenge, but I had none. The old world was dead. Alex had what it took to survive in this new one. 

 

"Some people came looking for Alex after that, creepy guys in suits. He went with them, but I could tell he didn't want to go," Debbie continued.

 

"A few years later, I had this dream, so real that I couldn't stand it. I dreamed Alex was buried alive. I heard him screaming in my dreams and I kept seeing a silo in South Dakota. I made my dad and my brothers take me there. We found Alex nearly dead, locked in a room. He was very sick, but we nursed him back to health. He was talking crazy after that. At least, we thought so at the time. It wasn't until the alien war came out into the open that we knew he hadn't gone crazy."

 

"Alex said he had to get some information to his old partner and he took off again. I heard he had taken up with some crazy white guys and left the state. Last time we saw him, he was sick again. He had his arm cut off. He talked to us again about the war he was fighting. He told us how to get ready. Some of us listened. We were ready when the aliens and the super soldiers came. We stayed ready and that's why we have done so well in the land of the Dead."

 

I took this all in, starting to build a picture of Alex's life after he left the first time and during the long periods of his life when I had no idea where he was. I hadn't realized that he had run after leaving the FBI, but that was the only way I could make sense of the timing of Alex's first visit to the Allard family. I wondered if he would ever really talk to me, tell me about his life.

 

Handing his bowl to a young girl, Alex stood up and walked my way. He said, "We should get moving. We can be in Sequim by tomorrow morning, maybe sooner."

 

I nodded at Debbie and said, "I hope to see you again."

 

Alex hugged Doug and Debbie goodbye. I saw Vesta and Jo holding hands. I wondered what they thought as we drove away. Were they glad to be safe or did they feel abandoned? I knew that Alex had made the best decision for them, but it was hard to leave them. I felt responsible.

 

Alex took the first shift again. I didn't think I would be doing any sleeping anyway. We were getting near now. I sat down in the shotgun seat and stared out the window. The next leg of the trip took us further into Right to Deather territory. We would make no stops there. Idaho had other problems. The surviving enclaves of humans tended to be survivalist's camps, even more unfriendly to outsiders than most of the tiny groups of humanity remaining. 

 

"How are we going to spread the maggots?" I asked. "Won't they die if we just drop them on the ground?"

 

"We're going to drop them on carrion and hope they spread to the Dead from there," Alex said.

 

"If we place them directly on the Dead, they would spread faster," I pointed out.

 

"No," Alex said, his tone leaving me no doubt that he was serious. "That's an order. Don't even think about it."

 

Shit. I knew better than to argue with that tone. I nodded and said, "Hope to hell they are tough little bugs."

 

I went over to check on our little friends and I grinned. I said, "Hey, Alex, not a huge problem. Our babies are getting read to leave home."

 

Almost half of the maggots had turned to blowflies. The flies still looked wet with wings still partially folded, but they would be ready to fly and to mate soon. 

 

Alex kept driving. We weren't sure how far the new breed of blowflies had spread, but we would start seeding over the Idaho border, knowing that Doug Allard's Flatheads would be taking care of surrounding areas. 

 

We let some of our hitchhikers go once we passed the sign for the turn off to Moscow, Idaho. There was a massive pileup on I-90 there. It hadn't been cleared although I could see traces of recent traffic around the piles of vehicles. Most significantly, there were no Dead wandering around. Of course, they wandered off when there were no humans left to devour, but I still expected to see stragglers; for example, individuals too damaged to move. The damned things didn't die even when torn in half. I'd seen some of the Dead crawling along like that; it made me sick. 

 

Sometimes when I think about the Dead, I find myself looking at them through Scully's eyes. They didn't make sense. Their hunger when some of them didn't even have intestines to fill, the way they sensed us even when we were hidden, quiet and they could not catch our scent. The mystery of how signals traveled across their dead nerves. Not believing in them would not have helped Scully. I wonder if she would have been doomed even if she had lived past the first week of the plague. Her disbelief might have led her to join the thousands of doctors and health care personnel that had perished trying to cure or care for the Dead.

 

Alex drove around the traffic jam, bitching about the locals who hadn't made any effort to clean up the mess. It was just his mood; the hybrid could go off road on very rough terrain. Alex disapproved of lazy people. If everyone was like him...well, honestly, the world couldn't survive, but it would be one hell of a way to go.

 

I was half dozing when I felt Alex's hand grip my knee. "Heads up," Alex said. "Trouble."

 

The sight that greeted me sent a jolt of fear through me. It woke me up more thoroughly than coffee could ever do. I reached for the mortar controls and aimed. The marauders weren't heavily armed, not on the motorcycles they rode, but if enough of them impacted us, it might be trouble.

 

The riders wore swat armor, but I don't think they were cops; at least, I hoped not. They wove patterns as they approached us. Suddenly I was back in college, playing Galaga. I saw the instant when the marauders were grouped and shot a mortar into the center. My aim was great. I took out five or six of the marauders at once. The survivors kept coming. I saw one of them lift an arm up and the hybrid shook with the impact a moment later. 

 

"Grenades," Alex said. "We can't take too many hits like that."

 

"I know," I said, aiming a shot at two riders. I hit one of them and he plowed into the other motorcyclist. There was still a dozen marauders. Alex swerved abruptly to avoid being hit with another grenade. I almost fell out of my seat, reminded of those old Star Trek shows with all the actors throwing themselves about to simulate a phaser hit.

 

"Put your damn seat belt on," Alex yelled.

 

I managed to fasten it as Alex performed another one of those lurching turns...what Kirk would have called an evasive maneuver.

 

Once I was secured in my seat, I aimed again, trying for a cluster fuck again. I was good. I hit two of the riders and the third skidded sideways along the terrain. The last three turned tail, leaving their companions. 

 

Ah shit, from somewhere, a handful of the Dead arrived, making that sick moaning growl they constantly vocalized. They headed for two of the wounded riders.

 

I didn't have much mercy on the marauders, but I wouldn't wish being eaten alive on anyone. Alex steered the hybrid back toward the riders. I gratefully glanced his way before finishing off the two survivors with the light gun.

 

"Drop some of the maggots as we go by; and let some of the mutated blow flies loose," Alex said. 

 

It was a good idea. I grabbed handfuls of the maggots and scattered them across one of the fresh bodies. One thing we knew. The Dead would try to devour the recently deceased even if they had not killed them. We sped away, leaving the Dead to feast. 

 

"Stupid fuckers," Alex said. "The entire world is full of resources and all they can think about is stealing. It's going to be as difficult putting them down as it was to defeat the aliens."

 

I checked the systems and noticed we had a warning light on. The second grenade had done some damage to the sensors. We needed to stop and repair.

 

 

OooOooO

 

Alex kept driving until we reached a big commercial truck repair facility. It was isolated on the side of the freeway and there weren't any Dead outside. Inside the gate, I could see a couple of overall clad bodies, but they had smashed in skulls. Someone had survived long enough to kill some of their transformed co-workers.

 

Alex picked the lock and I drove in. We closed the gate behind us. In order to repair the damage, we were going to have to shut down the electrical system of the hybrid. That was going to leave us vulnerable. 

 

Alex handed me one of the scythes. I understood. We needed to kill any ghouls silently to avoid hordes of the Dead descending on us. They always responded to new human generated sound.

 

Going first, Alex moved like a kung fu star. Damn hot stuff, my lover.

 

There was no movement until we reached the inside of the huge metal hanger where trucks were repaired. Alex shouted and swung, the head rolled nearly at my feet, teeth still snapping. I side stepped, the error saving my life as a small Dead girl lunged out at me. I lashed out wildly, my blow leaving her head flopping, connected only by a thin rope of leathery flesh. There was one more, a heavy set Dead man with most of his left side missing. Alex got him.

 

The Dead child ran at me again. I switched to the weighted side of the scythe, smashing in the side of the child's skull. I hit it again once I saw that no more were coming. The body twitched and the child's blue and blood stained mouth stopped gnashing. Alex finished the decapitated head, staving it in, giving final rest to the man who once had been.

 

"We'll search now," Alex said. 

 

In the lounge I found a bunch of crayons and pictures drawn by a school age child. The Dead child was Carrie Ann unless some other child had lived her final days here. The first crayon pictures were of trucks and a grinning overall clad man. There was a digital picture near the nest of packing mats that must have been the child's bed. The person who had taken it caught father and daughter hugging with proud and happy smiles. "Father/Daughter day 2004" was printed on the margins.

 

My hand shook as I looked at the faces of the people we had just put to rest. Trapped here, Carrie Ann and her father had lived days or weeks, hoping to be rescued, surviving on whatever food was in the refrigerator of the employee's lounge and vending machines in the lobby.

 

Her father must have suffered more from his daughter's pain and fear than from his own. Her need probably drove him to try to escape and find food. He hadn't been fast enough. There had been too many Dead thronging outside. They would not leave as long as they could sense a living human. After the last of the three died, the Dead outside would have given up and left to find living flesh. I hoped Carrie Ann had not been the last and that she hadn't suffered too much.

 

Alex's hand on my arm brought me back. "We have work to do," he said.

 

"I know," I said. 

 

First, I dragged the father and daughter together, covering them with a tarp. I would have liked to have burned them, but I didn't want to attract the Dead. They migrate toward fire and artificial light sources.

 

I mumbled something that might have been a prayer although I don't believe - don't even want to believe - in a God that could allow this to happen.

 

By the time I was done with my mock interment; Alex had already started his work. The grenade had hit a plate that must have been defective. The sensors beneath were burnt, fused into a useless mass. I couldn't help Alex except by handing him things. I had never been taught to work with my hands as a boy. I had tried to rectify that as an adult, but I think you have to be introduced early to the concepts to have a real talent for mechanical work.

 

Alex bitched at the equipment under his breath. He wanted to be finished and back on the road. We had spares for most of the damaged parts and Alex improvised the rest. It took over an hour to splice everything together. 

 

Listening, I heard a low sound, almost like the wind blowing through trees. I knew it wasn't that. The sound haunted me all through my stay at Andrew's Airbase. 

 

"Alex, they're here," I said.

 

"Fence should hold them until I'm done," Alex said. "We should test fire the guns anyway."

 

I opened the side door to check and found I was right. They were here. It wasn't a huge crowd of the Dead, not compared to the thousands that thronged around Andrews, but there were a couple hundred. Alex said, "Let some more of the blowflies loose. We won't kill all of these when we escape."

 

I scooped some of the blowflies into a jar and carried them out. The Dead were reaching through the fence, putrefying green hands pressing through the links. I don't know why the truck repair facility had been built to withstand so much force, but I was happy about it. Too bad we were going to have to drive through the gate, but there was nothing left to protect now, nothing living.

 

The flies buzzed free. I watched them settle on the dead, laying eggs which would soon hatch into maggots. I smiled at the sight. I remember Scully always told me that maggots weren't despicable. They helped to clean the world of refuge and decaying flesh. She had once shown me an article on the medical use of maggots that kept me awake for two nights.

 

Closing my eyes, I could see my partner as she had been the last time I saw her. Her smile was a quirk of amusement. Her blue eyes danced. Her pale perfect beauty was ageless. "You were right, Scully. You were absolutely right."

 

Alex rolled the hybrid out into the yard. The moans grew in volume. I watched in disgust as the Dead who were pressed against the fence were pushed through it like sausage from a grinder. When all the soft, semi-decomposed flesh was ground to the bone, the Dead were left hanging. I heard snapping sounds as bone gave in. These were hungry Dead; it must have been a long time since they had human prey.

 

Alex said, "You drive. I have some trick shots in mind."

 

All right, I was interested in how he was going to thin the ranks enough for us to escape. I waited for Alex's command. He fussed with the controls a bit and then lobbed a heavy mortar into the crowd. Body parts erupted like a geyser of gore from the impact. Alex fired again, moving along the back of the crowd of clamoring Dead. 

 

It took a moment to see what he intended. He was relieving the pressure from behind to thin the throng at the gate. Alex aimed another mortar directly in the path of the gate and then set a fire pattern on either side. The heavy mortar did immense damage to the gate and even more to the Dead who had been pushing against it. Shrapnel from the gate killed many of the Dead that were missed by the mortar.

 

By the time Alex and I went through the gate, the road beyond was a mass of blackened body parts, shrapnel, and gore. Alex continued firing as we went. The still mobile Dead ran tirelessly after us until I noticed a large gas station. I drove into the center, waiting for the Dead to catch up with us, although not close enough to climb on the hybrid. Once they were clustered between the many pumps, I yelled, "Alex, fire at the tanks."

 

We barely made it out of the path of the fire ball that destroyed our pursuers. I saw flaming humanoid shapes stumble out of the fire, but soon enough they fell smoldering.

 

"Good idea," Alex said.

 

"I know," I answered smugly.

 

"Would have been a pisser if the tanks had been empty." 

 

"True," I admitted, "but there would have been enough gas to create a smaller fire anyway."

 

"We work well together," Alex said. He chuckled and said, "We're both geniuses."

 

Since we had found gas at the truck repair company, we were set for the next few hours.

 

The rest of the trip through Idaho passed without incident. I slept through most of it and took over driving when we passed Spokane. We didn't go close to the largest city in eastern Washington. There was no need. I saw no lights in the city. I think there were no living people left there.

 

By the time we reached the mountains, there were no more Dead. The pass had been cleared of vehicles by the simple means of pushing them off the road, down to the vast valleys below. The Dead had not fared well in the cold winter that we had in 2004. I remembered reading the Farmer's Almanac that predicted a warm winter, but volcanic activity had changed that. It had been cold all over the northern hemisphere. Mark Van de Kamp said that it had snowed heavily in Sequim. The warm area around Sequim and Port Angeles was known as the banana belt of western Washington so that meant the rest of the state had been worse troubled by the cold.

 

The extreme cold of the mountains had frozen the Dead in their tracks. The local residents had smashed their heads and burned the bodies. As we rumbled through, we could see communities thriving in niches in the mountain. I wished with all my heart that Van de Kamp had moved here instead of to Sequim.

 

An hour more and we rumbled down the mountainside. Alex said, "Seattle and Tacoma are almost gone, although there are people in isolated pockets. People on the surrounding islands burned the bridges and the ferries. They survived, but the cities are walking cemeteries. We'll avoid them. We can drive around Olympia and hit the peninsula that way."

 

I nodded. Alex had napped for a while, but now he was alert. He hadn't asked to take over driving. I think he wanted the guns. That was all right with me. 

 

"Just a few of the maggots left," Alex said. "I hope there will be enough to start a breeding population."

 

"I hope that when all is said and done, there will be enough humans left for a breeding population too."

 

Alex said, "Sometimes I wonder if the world would be better off without us."

 

OooOooO

 

What a beautiful place. I remembered Washington and Oregon from trips here, but if you don't live here, you forget how green it is. The rain forest was coming back, eating up smaller towns. On one river, I saw canoes. They were shooting a modern version of flaming arrows at the Dead. The arrow heads were loaded with explosives and the Dead blew up on impact. Whatever they had put in the arrow heads was damn effective. The heads were blown off their shoulders. The river was running fast and the Dead who tried to cross it were falling in. 

 

I know the men in the canoe saw us, but they didn't react. They seemed to have a plan in mind and I hoped for their sake that it was a good one.

 

My heart pounded as we drew nearer the peninsula. I had been to the farm two times, once to pick William up and again to bring him for his visit. I knew where to go. I just hoped we could make it.

 

A fire burned steadily. I worried that it was Van de Kamp's farmhouse, but, when we drew closer, I saw it was a pile of the Dead burning. The burning zombies were surrounded by an army of hard-faced men and women. They watched us go without comment, not asking for help, no offering any. It gave me hope though. If this army of the living had cleaned out part of the area this near Sequim, perhaps someone had helped Van de Kamp and his allies. 

 

William was my son. He was Scully's son. I had to save him and I had to make this world a decent place for him to live.

 

"He'll be alive," Alex said.

 

"Psychic now?" I said.

 

"Hopeful," Alex replied.

 

The road was lined with fields of lavender. I wished we could open a window. I would love to smell the herb's pure scent on the wind. Instead, Alex had to rumble through a field to avoid a barricade. Van de Kamp had been a lavender grower as well, but he also had a winery. His friends and he were growing food crops now. They had enclosed several farms in a palisade around the time of the alien war. Unrest had led to human marauders as well as the occasional super soldier straggler. After the war, Mark had persuaded the other farmers to reinforce the barrier, building a high concrete wall. 

 

I hadn't understood what Mark was doing until William told me, 'the bad people are coming. They eat you up. We need a castle’."

 

William was precocious; I had been too. I hadn't understood what my son was saying, but I accepted that he was offering good advice. It was one of the reasons I had said yes to Mark's request for a visit. Scully hadn't been as happy to allow it, but I over-ruled her wishes for once. My gut said that William was safer with Mark in the 'castle' he had built.

 

"Happy Valley?" Alex remarked as we rumbled down the road. 

 

"It was happy before all of this happened," I said. "It was beautiful."

 

There was a hill before the dip of the valley. We could see the problem now. The walled mini town of Happy Valley was surrounded by a sea of the Dead. They moaned relentlessly as they swarmed around the walls. Thank God the Dead were incapable of higher thought and were unable to climb.

 

Alex said, "Mulder, it isn't going to work. We would need three or four tanks to get through that hoard."

 

"So what are you saying," I asked. "That I should give up on saving my son?"

 

"No, I'm saying we need some additional equipment," Alex said.

 

Still suspicious, I said, "What kind of equipment?"

 

Alex lowered his lashes, peered from behind them, and licked his lips. He said, "Hi, I'm Alex. Fly me."

 

Okay, I didn't know what he meant, but I was interested. Very interested.

 

OooOooO

 

We drove past the walled farm. My heart was breaking as we passed. I hoped that Alex's idea would work. We needed a miracle to get my son and the defenders out alive.

 

Down the road, we ran into a shuffling group of brightly clad Dead. They were a blinding sea of tie dye. The male Dead had long hair and the females had longer. They milled about even more disorganized then the usual mindless rambling of the Dead. 

 

I heard Alex's chuckles as we rumbled through the group, scattering some and killing the others. 

 

"What?" I asked. 

 

"Look at the slogans on their shirts," Alex said.

 

Oh, shit, the Dead wore shirts that said, "Deadicated”, “Grateful to the Dead”, “Jerry's Kids”. They were fans of the Grateful Dead ... Deadheads.

 

"Jerry would have thought he went on one last, really bad trip," Alex said.

 

Trying to feel sympathetic, I gazed at the remainder of the Grateful Dead fans. Ah, hell, I shot a few more. Better dead than Dead.

 

OooOooO

 

"Where are we going?" I asked.

 

"Another little secret of the project," Alex replied, bursting through a sign that said 'Road Out'.

 

"I know this can drive over rough terrain, but what if there's nothing ahead but a huge sinkhole? I heard there were roads washed out a few years ago."

 

Giving me a scornful look, Alex kept going. The road did too.

 

The road ended in what appeared to be a mass of rubble. I sighed. "As I said, Alex."

 

"Keep close watch," Alex said. He picked up his MP-5 and slung it over his shoulder. Looking cautiously about, Alex opened the door and stepped out. Walking to what appeared to be a dead tree, Alex reached inside. Something ground inside the earth and slowly a hanger appeared. 

 

At first, all I saw was an igloo like tunnel of metal. Then the sides split to each side.

 

Shining like a black sun, as beautiful and dark as Alex, it was a large, sleek helicopter. 

 

"Here it is," Alex said. "I needed it anyway to get to the labs. We'll ferry the survivors out, a few at the time."

 

Salvation. "You know how to fly that bird?" I asked.

 

Alex grinned and said, "In theory, and I was always a fast learner."

 

I had a feeling we had a wild ride in front of us.

 

OooOooO

 

The sleek helicopter was well-armed. Alex ran me though the weapons controls. His plan was double edged. First, we would take out as many of the Dead as we could. Secondly, we would fly in and start bringing the defenders out.

 

I understood the weapons; they were similar to those on the hybrid. 

 

Alex said, "The main thing to remember is to calculate five minutes in front of our flight path. That's the strike zone. The radar's not going to help much when our targets are all 'soft'."

 

"No problem, I've played enough video games with Langly" I said. "What are we going to do with them once we get them? They won't all fit in the hybrid."

 

"No," Alex agreed. "They won't. There's a shelter under the hanger. They'll be safe in there. It's set up for long term residence. More of that cold war mentality, but handy for us. We better make sure that it's safe though. Come on."

 

Heavily armed, we went into the shelter. I sensed Alex covering me, but it was all right. I was covering him. We moved as if connected by one beating heart. We were perfection, one soul in two bodies.

 

Something stirred in a corridor. We crouched waiting. Three Dead lurched forward, but before we could shoot them, they collapsed. 

 

When we checked, bloody jaws snapped at us. Milky eyes fixated on us, but the bodies had literally fallen apart. When I examined them, I saw that the bodies were dissolving into a grayish green powder. The eyes dissolved and the jaws fell apart. Something powerful had killed the Dead.

 

"Don't touch them," Alex said. He took out the inevitable latex gloves and evidence bag, taking a sample while I covered him.

 

There was no one else in the shelter, neither the living nor the Dead. We found a locked compound with cages. There were crumbled remains in several of the cages. In other areas, we found the same thing, but no more of the Dead. 

 

I couldn't understand why the shelter had been abandoned unless everyone had been infected and died. It should have been easier to exterminate the infected than to face the world outside.

 

Alex said, "Should have been two helicopters here. Some of them got out."

 

Alex booted up a computer in the laboratory area. I loved making love to Alex. I loved to watch him soft eyed and glowing with pleasure, but I think I loved to watch him at work as much. His long fingers flew over the keyboard, rapidly entering whatever data was required to retrieve the information we needed.

 

"Damn," Alex said. "Several of the scientists from the island took refuge here. They brought their research with them along with some specimens of the Dead. The last note on the computer indicates that they took their research and headed for the larger shelter in Montana. That's where the other helicopter went. They developed our friends, the maggots. They also developed a relative of slime mold that had some success in infecting and speeding the decomposition of the Dead. One of the lab techs concealed a bite and died unattended. They lost half their people and decided to abandon the shelter, locking it behind them, leaving the Dead inside. It appears that the mold was more effective than they thought. Those creatures that tried to attack us were the last of twenty or thirty Dead."

 

"They made it to Montana," I replied, looking over Alex's shoulder. "Did they test the slime mold to make sure it didn't affect living tissue?"

 

"Yeah," Alex said. "It didn't. They didn't seem to feel it was a viable alternative as it was slow. I disagree from what we saw. Even if the spores take time, it's a win situation as a helicopter could fly over concentrations of the dead, dropping both the maggots and the spores. Both would also serve to protect the areas from further infestation along with the vaccine."

 

Eyes shining, Alex said, "Mulder, we can return the world to the control of the living!"

 

"We still need the vaccine though," I said, wishing it weren't true. "We need the process used to create the antiviral."

 

"I know," Alex said. He stood up and said, "Time to fly. We'll get some weapons and flight practice on the way back to the farms."

 

We made one stop to pick up additional weapons and ammunition for the farm. Mark's last communication with me was that ammo was low.

 

As we walked to the copter with the heavy crates of weaponry, I asked, "You really haven't flown one of those copters?" 

 

"A slight exaggeration," Alex admitted. "I had a lover who flew one when I was in training. He taught me how to fly, but it's been years. That was before I knew you."

 

"Hopefully, it's like riding a bike," I said.

 

"Hopefully," Alex said. "Let's rock and roll."

 

OooOooO

 

Alex flew around the area a couple of times and we targeted some scattered groups of the Dead until I had honed my skills on the weapons. The unmarked helicopters used by the project were descended from the legendary Black Hawks. They had six machine guns, carried anti-tank missiles and S-5 rockets. Our copter could carry up to twenty crew members; enough so that we could rescue everyone in the farms in two trips.

 

The situation was worse than ever when we returned to Van de Kamp's farm. The defenders had fallen back behind the second barrier, a wall that surrounded the house. Falling back a bit, I saw what had happened. There had been so many dead pressing against the wall that they had climbed each other's bodies and fallen into the fields that surrounded the farm house. 

 

Moving to the heavy concentration of the Dead, I picked one of the anti-tank rockets. Telling myself it was not more than the shoot'em up games that Langly had insisted I learn to play, I aimed and fired. 

 

The results were a geyser of rotting flesh and putrid body parts. I hadn't even realized that a cluster of wrecked cars had been the center of the heaving mindless body of the beast that was the Dead. The shrapnel from the direct hit had done almost as much damage as the actual explosion.

 

Alex whistled and said, "Good shot, Mulder, that was a good idea."

 

"I'm not bad on my own," I replied, taking the undeserved credit. I looked for another target that would bring collateral damage. I was a fast learner. I saw the upper part of a stone wall when the mass of Dead surged away from it.

 

The results were even more spectacular. Stones flew everywhere, raining down like Thor's hammer, smashing the heads of the Dead in great numbers. The wall ran along the property edge so I nudged Alex so I could repeat the trick. Each blast took out hundreds of the dead, but there were thousands of them. 

 

"Move closer to the house," I said. "We have to take some of the pressure off the defenders."

 

"Yeah," Alex said, the helicopter dipping down low.

 

I could see some of the Dead reaching blindly for us and I hated them so. Hated them all the more for the parody of humanity left in their blackened faces and tortured bodies. I released a series of anti-tank missiles into the center of the army of the Dead. 

 

"I'll fly lower," Alex said. "Strafe the Dead before they get over the wall."

 

It was like mowing grass, no glory although plenty of guts. I had mastered this technique in the hybrid. The only difference was the angle of the shots. I was glad that my first volley was some distance from the farm. It gave me a chance to correct my trajectory and do the most damage. I needed to hit the heads when I could. I was getting better at that. 

 

Alex grunted and said, "Mulder, look at the center of the field."

 

All right, I looked. I could see silver metal glittering in a milling sea of Dead.

 

It was an oil truck. If it had any oil remaining, this was going to the mother of all fireworks. I said, "You think it's far enough from the farm house?"

 

Alex's eyes shifted between the stone fence that protected the house and the oil tanker. I didn't want to know why Alex knew so much about explosions; I needed to take his knowledge on faith.

 

Faith was a funny thing. I had never had much of it, never believed in God since I remembered. I had never been a flag waver. In my life, the only things I ever believed in were myself and Scully. Now I had something new to believe in; my partner, my fearless, fierce lover.

 

I aimed for the tank, hoping it still contained oil. 

 

Alex said, "Get it good. I'm going to have to get us out quickly once you strike."

 

My guts were left a hundred feet down as Alex pulled the helicopter straight up to avoid the column of fire and heated air that erupted from the tanker. My neck was wrenched backwards by the centrifuge of speed and gravity. 

 

I could hear Alex cursing as he fought to remain in control. When we finally leveled out, I looked down. 

 

Damn! There was a crater where the tanker had been. Fire balls had shot out to great distances although Alex was correct that the debris fell short of the farm house fortress. The blast had not only taken out the Dead in the epicenter; there were decapitated bodies fallen in circles from the explosion like petals from a flower of death.

 

When the debris stopped flying, we went back to strafing the Dead who clawed and beat upon the stone fence. The defenders inside were firing sporadically. They were good shots, making every bullet count.

 

"They were running out of ammunition," I said.

 

"Yeah, I think we have things under control enough to take the first bunch out," Alex said.

 

There was enough space in the driveway to land. I saw the weary defenders stop for a moment to look at us. "Mark?" I shouted. "It's Mulder." 

 

A handful of people emerged from the house. A small figure darted out before Mark Van de Kamp could stop him. 

 

"Daddy!" William shouted. 

 

My son was as difficult to stop as I was. I swept him up in my arms. He smelled of old sweat and like any hard playing little boy. 

 

"I knew you would come," William said.

 

I stepped forward to shake Mark's hand. He had lost weight, a lot of it, and more of his hair. He said, "About time, Mulder."

 

"We'll take the children, anyone ill or injured first," Alex said. "I can take eighteen, maybe more depending on how many children there are."

 

"Fourteen kids, infants to seventeen," Mark said. 

 

"Get them out here and into the copter," Alex ordered. He said, "I have some fresh weapons for you."

 

Mark and some of the other defenders lined up to take them. They smiled grimly as they switched places to allow the men and women currently on duty to fall back and arm themselves.

 

"This won't take long," I promised. "You just need to hold them back for another twenty or thirty minutes."

 

"We'll try," Mark said.

 

I winced, wishing Mark was going with the first group. We had enough ammunition left to strafe the Dead one more time before heading for the shelter.

 

The kids were quiet. The older teenagers were reluctant to leave. They had been part of Mark's defenses for months and didn't appreciate being treated as kids. No one listened to their objections; it was time for them to be given a chance to live.

 

Since I didn't need to work the weapons, I held William, letting the reality of his wiry little boy body sink into me.

 

"Is Mommy at the shelter?" William asked.

 

I didn't want to face this moment, but my almost five year old son deserved my respect. I said, "No, son, Mommy's in heaven."

 

I didn't believe in heaven myself, but if there was one, surely Dana Scully was there. She was an angel, a sharp tongued, tough angel on earth.

 

William buried his head in my chest. "My other Mommy went to heaven too, but first Daddy Mark had to shoot her in the head. I wasn't supposed to see, but I wanted to see Mommy and I hid in the closet when Daddy came in."

 

My own tears fell on William's head. I held my son until he sobbed himself to sleep.

 

OooOooO

 

Alex hurried the kids and the four injured adults out of the helicopter, giving them quick instructions. One of the last to leave the copter was Van de Kamp's eighty five year old mother. She took William from me and said, "We'll have this place cleaned up by the time you bring my son back."

 

I was glad she had faith in us and in her son. I was worried that the ten adults left behind would not be enough to keep the Dead from breaching the walls. 

 

The fresh weapons and hope had invigorated the defenders, but the Dead were crawling over the piles of bodies. As we landed, I saw one of the Dead fall over the wall. Another followed.

 

As the defenders retreated in an orderly fashion, more of the Dead thudded into the enclosure. I fired at a skinny grandmother with only one eye. Her gaily printed house dress was smeared with blood. She fell just before she was able to sink her ancient teeth into Mark. He whirled to shoot a young man that seemed faster than the rest. Freshly killed Dead were the only ones that quick. 

 

I heard one of the women cry out. "Tommy! Oh, Tommy!"

 

Mark stayed until the last one of his friends was in the copter. I had to shoot a rapid burst to allow him to jump into the copter. As we took off, the Dead pounded on the copter. We shot the ones we could but they were all over us, clinging to every part of the copter. Their hands left trails of decaying flesh where they touched the windows.

 

Alex was white lipped. I thought we were going to crash, but we slowly gained velocity and took off. Rotting ligaments gave way, leaving hands clinging as the Dead fell to the ground. Alex looped a couple of time, finally ridding us of our most persistent hitchhikers. I leaned out and saw one last lone Dead creature. It had managed to crawl on top of the copter. I pulled my hand back, but not before the damn thing bit me. I slammed it with my rifle butt as I had once done to Alex. The results were more satisfactory this time. The Dead fell off. It flailed as it swam through the air until it hit the tail rotor. It was as if the Dead had fallen into a blender. Red and brown fragments rained down.

 

I heard Mark cry out in horror as he saw I had been bit, but Alex said, "Don't worry. He's vaccinated."

 

"There's a vaccine?" Mark said. "Can it cure them?"

 

"No," Alex said. "But it can prevent you from coming back even if they kill you. Mulder will be okay."

 

"You're sure of that?" Mark asked.

 

"Yes, I am sure," Alex said. 

 

I could feel the helicopter wobble. "Is everything okay?" I asked.

 

"That fucker bent the stabilizing rotor," Alex said. "I can still fly it, but it's like trying to drive without steering fluid. I'm fighting to stay on trajectory."

 

Mark said, "Even crashing is better than what would have happened back there. Thank you, Mulder, and your friend?"

 

"Alex Krycek," I said. "My partner."

 

I saw Van de Kamp's eyes travel over Alex. I must have put an emphasis on partner that was all too revealing. Mark nodded and said, "Thank you, Mr. Krycek."

 

"Alex will do," Alex said. "We aren't going to crash. I can do this."

 

OooOooO

 

By the time, we reached the shelter, Alex was white faced, soaked with sweat. We landed hard, but the copter was intact. It had to be. This was only the first part of our mission.

 

My son was safe, but we still had the world to save.

 

OooOooO

 

I helped Alex from his seat. I think we both held each other up as we embraced. 

 

"More of them," Mark shouted.

 

"I know," Alex said, but the copter was already lowering into the underground hanger.

 

Mark and I picked off the Dead who tried to encroach on the platform. I don't know where they came from. We had seen none of them when we arrived here in the hybrid. Our old friend occupied the other landing platform. It would be safe with Van de Kamp here.

 

Finally, the metal roof closed over us. We were sheltered in the womb of the earth. 

 

"We have to clean up that wound," Alex said. "The bite won't kill you, but it's still a septic wound."

 

"I love you too," I said.

 

We didn't get far into the shelter before William came running toward us. He was all over me and then gave his affection equally to Mark, who knelt, holding him, rocking him in his embrace, and weeping.

 

"It's okay," William said. "This is a great place. 'cept the baths. Granny made me take a bath."

 

"Baths are good," Mark said. "I know I want one. A bath and a clean bed."

 

 

"Plenty of both here," Alex said. He sighed and said, "Let's head for the infirmary, Mulder."

 

"Bernice is probably in there," Mark said. "She was a nurse practitioner. Good as a doctor."

 

Mark was swaying on his feet. I said, "Go pick a room. You need a rest. The world can wait a day or two."

 

William followed us to the infirmary. He held my hand tightly. He was an amazing child, loving and smart. He had grown up so far in a world filled with trouble and change. I hoped that soon he would be able to experience safety and stability for the first time in his life since the two years he had spent with the Van de Kamps. Wherever we went, I wanted to make sure that William's adoptive father went also. My son shouldn't lose anyone else.

 

 

OooOooO

 

Bernice turned out to be a lovely young woman who wore her hair in a golden brown braid down her back. She had a beautiful smile and eyes that were a unique topaz color. She was tall and had a smooth pad of flesh over her strongly built frame. She said, "These facilities are incredible."

 

"State of the art," Alex said. "Hi, I'm Alex Krycek."

 

"Bernice LaRoche," the woman said. "I'm a nurse practitioner."

 

"We know," I said. "Mark said you would be here."

 

"I've been reading these notes," Bernice said. "The research...it looks as if this is a man-made plague."

 

"Yes," Alex said. "But there are some man-made cures too. One of them is a vaccine that Mr. Mulder has been given. There are also two biological agents that will help us destroy the Dead."

 

The nurse said. "I read that too."

 

Coming over to me, Bernice LaRoche tsked as she examined the wound on my hand. It hurt like hell.

 

The nurse examined my hand carefully as she took my temperature. "There's some sign of infection, not as much as I would expect from their bite."

 

"Just hit him up with some penicillin," Alex said. "The only risk is from infection."

 

"Really? That's wonderful," Bernice said.

 

I winced when I saw the needle and wasn't too happy when Bernice asked me to drop my trousers to get the shot. She reminded me of Scully in her no nonsense way. I accepted an aspirin and lay down for a while, letting the nurse reassure herself that I was not turning.

 

Alex had gone back to the computer. I heard him say, "The fuckers."

 

William said, "Daddy, he said a bad word."

 

Alex was going to have to clean up his vocabulary. So was I. 

 

"What's wrong, Alex?" I asked.

 

"That's why I was held captive at the island," Alex said. "They never told me why. The vaccine was made from my blood, some after effect of the Oilien's stay in my body. Well, thank you, ET."

 

I got to my feet and walked over to read what he was reading. The analysis of Alex's blood was detailed. They had finally isolated the proteins that made him able to fight off the Dead virus. 

 

"They injected blood from the Dead into me," Alex said in horror. "They had no idea what it would do to me! I could have been...if I hadn't been resistant..."

 

"But you were," I reassured. "Come on, Alex. Let's go find a room."

 

Alex still looked shaken, but he let me take his hand. 

 

William tugged at me. "Want a piggyback, Daddy."

 

My hand was still throbbing and I felt weak. I said, "I'm sorry, William. I can't. My hand is sore."

 

"You're not going to get sick?" William asked. "Have to be shot in a head?"

 

"No," I said. "No, I have medicine in me."

 

Alex said, "Hey, William, I can give you a ride. Will that be okay?"

 

My son checked with me. I said, "William, this is Alex. He's Daddy's special friend. Daddy and Alex sleep with each other."

 

"Like Mommy and Daddy Mark?" William asked. 

 

"Like that," I agreed.

 

"Okay," William said, letting himself be swept up.

 

The three of us headed for a room with a double bed. Tonight we would be the start of a family. 

 

OooOooO

 

I lay down and my hand started to ache. I moved it to my chest. The bandage felt as if it was cutting off my circulation and I felt feverish.

 

William bounced on the bed. He pulled at my boots, trying to take them off for me. I felt irritable and wanted to stop him, but he was my son and I had fought my way across the country for him. 

 

I reached for Alex and said, "Alex, are you sure the vaccine works? I feel like shit."

 

"It works," Alex said. "I saw it tested a dozen times without failure."

 

William moved toward me, looking puzzled. I opened my arms to him, holding him. I wanted to trust Alex. I did trust him, but nothing would make me risk my son. I said, "William, we need to get some sleep." I settled my son down on the bed, holding him.

 

Alex finished taking off my shoe and moved around me to hold me almost like I was holding William. Alex stroked my arm from shoulder to wrist lovingly. I felt tears force their way from beneath my eyelashes. I didn't want to die. I felt so alive. I had so much now and was finally smart enough to realize it.

 

Waiting for William to fall asleep, I held him in my arms. He was warm and solid, his soft red curls brushing under my chin. I could see Scully in his fair skin, his red hair, and in the shape of his chin. He had my nose, a little more refined, but it was going to have the general shape minus that crook where I had fallen off a bike and not told my parents until it was too late to set it straight. There was nothing more I wanted in life than to make a good life for William. I wanted him to know he was loved. I wanted him to grow up in a world free of both the aliens and the Dead. 

 

 

William fought sleep, yawning and humming to himself. Finally, nature won over his Mulder stubbornness. His mouth was open, chubby fingers curved near his full lower lip. I spent a long time looking at him. Finally, I scooped him into my arms and said, "I'm going to find Mark and have him watch over William."

 

Grumbling, Alex said, "The vaccine works."

 

Mark was waiting in the hallway with a rifle at ready. We stared at each other. I nodded and handed over my sleeping son. Mark swallowed hard, his stern face softening. He said, "Good luck, Mulder."

 

 

I went back to bed with Alex, but I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to make love. I was terrified. Alex sat on the bed, pulled me close, and wrapped himself around me. "I would never let you become one of them. Sleep, Mulder, I'll take care of you."

 

 

Alex's gun was never far from him. I reached over, stroking its length as if it was part of him. All the rage and pain of our relationship had changed to love. I trusted my life and my death to him.

 

His body supported me, pillowed me. At last, the ache in my hand subsided as did the fever. I was exhausted. I closed my eyes, anchored my uninjured hand on Alex's leg and I let sleep take me.

 

OooOooO

 

I woke looking into Alex's eyes. They were red rimmed, not as lovely as they usually were. He nodded at me and said, "I watched over you."

 

Reaching up, I drew Alex's lips down to meet mine. It was the kiss of life for me. Anything that might have developed ended promptly when Alex yawned into my kiss. 

 

"I'm sorry," I said. "Can you sleep now?"

 

"I can sleep anytime I am able," Alex said, a smile flickering over his lips. When I untangled myself from his arms and legs, he rolled over, captured a pillow and was out before I could say good night.

 

My hand hardly ached this morning. I went to the infirmary to see if Bernice was there. She was, still deep in study. 

 

"I see you are better," Bernice said.

 

"Much," I agreed. "Could you take a look at my hand?"

 

"Sure," Bernice said.

 

The wound was a little puffy around the edges, but the swelling was almost gone. There was no resemblance to the infections I had seen in other cases of zombie bites. I stretched my fingers, happy to feel them wiggle. 

 

Bernice took my temperature again. She said, "You're doing great; no fever. As far as I am concerned, you have a clean bill of health."

 

"Good," I said. "Any idea where Mark is?"

 

"He's taken over the kitchen," Bernice said. "He's making blueberry pancakes. Your son is with him."

 

After getting directions from Bernice, I followed the hallway to the kitchen. Mark's people still moved warily. They touched their guns and were ready to defend themselves when they saw me, but smiled when they saw my unclouded eyes and alert expression. I followed a wonderful smell into the kitchen and saw Mark standing over the commercial stove. 

 

William ran to greet me with a hug. He said, "Where did you go, Daddy?"

 

"I wasn't feeling well last night, but I'm fine now," I said.

 

"Where's Alex?" William asked.

 

"Sleeping," I said. "Any chance of getting some of those and some coffee?" 

 

Mark filled a plate and handed it to me. I found the coffee and poured a cup of it. William came and joined me even though he had obviously been feasting on blueberry pancakes already.

 

"I like this house, Daddy," William announced. "Can we stay?"

 

"You and Daddy Mark can stay here while Alex and I do some work," I said. "Then when I come back, I hope Daddy Mark and I can find a good place to live where you can go outside safely."

 

I met Mark's eyes. He nodded, agreeing that he would go with us so William would not lose him. I remember my first impressions of Mark, my automatic disrespect because he was a farmer, not my kind of person. I remember his anger and his passion when he told the judge that he and his wife had accepted William unconditionally as their son. How could a court order change that?

 

I don't know what made me offer visitation after the hearing. I don't think it was the mediator who kept telling us to think of William. For whatever reason, I had taken Scully aside and, for once, I was the one whose opinion prevailed about our son. Scully was reluctant, fearful that William would never bond to us if he still had contact with his former adoptive parents. It seemed to me that taking his entire life away was no way to get our son to trust us.

 

I think I was right, even if William's last visit with the Van de Kamps had led to the present situation, with my son and me on opposite coasts. If he had not been visiting with Mark and Alice when the outbreak happened, he would have been with Margaret Scully. Margaret had died heroically, trying to save neighborhood children from the Dead. Perhaps she would have lived if she had William to protect.

 

It made me sick when I found out how Andrews Air Force Base was so well prepared for the outbreak of the zombie plague. The government knew it was happening. They had suppressed news of the outbreaks all over the United States even while they prepared enclaves to shelter the elite. Perhaps they were right about wide spread panic, but I would never agree with their decisions.

 

Even though the northwest was one of the first areas infected, its terrain allowed for defense. Mark had to fight more than once to defend William during the alien war. After the defeat of the aliens, he still felt threatened. He had organized his neighbors to build two barriers, the stone fence and the inner chain link fence. Mark made sure he had every means to sustain life ready before the first zombie outbreak occurred.

 

When the Dead attacked, Mark was ready. He should have warned us, but he didn't know we would believe him....or at least, that I would believe him.

 

I feel that some providence chose a man who would rise to the occasion. Mark may have been an ordinary farmer when he and Alice adopted William, but he had become a warrior, a man who had saved not only my son, but many of his neighbors.

 

Mark nudged me and said, "Eat up, Mulder. You're going to make me think you don't like my cooking."

 

I looked into Mark's smiling face and grinned back. We were alive. William was safe. Maybe the rest of our mission would go as well.

 

I wasn't a big fan of pancakes. Breakfast and I were usually strangers unless you count the occasional bagel or piece of cold pizza. Today I was hungry and the fluffy pancakes with the sweet blueberries tasted great. There was even butter.

 

"Want a bite, Daddy," William said.

 

"You just ate, Billy-Boy," Mark said.

 

"It's okay," I said, aiming a fork full of pancake at my son's mouth. "I'm glad to share."

 

I finished my pancakes and sat drinking my coffee.

 

"Glad to see that your friend is right about the vaccine," Mark said. "I didn't sleep much, worrying about you." 

 

"Alex thinks this place will be safe," I said, "even if we don't come back with the vaccine."

 

"Bernice says that we might be able to recreate the antivirus if your friend will give us some of his blood to work with," Mark said.

 

"You can ask him," I said, wincing. I didn’t know what Alex would say. He hadn't been asked the first time. If he hadn't escaped, he would have spent the rest of his life as a blood producing machine.

 

"Alex feels strongly about getting the manufactured vaccine and the process to make it," I said. "Even if we start making vaccine here, it would take a long time to stockpile enough to make a difference."

 

"I suppose," Mark said. "It's just hard to think of you taking a risk like that." His mouth quirked and he said, "Our son needs both of his dads."

 

William was visiting his friends., He was an active, outgoing kid despite what he had been through. It didn't take long for my son and the other children to start a game of tag that ended with them being rounded up and taken to the exercise area of the shelter.

 

"He's a bold kid," I said, straining to remember what I had been like at that age.

 

"He's a leader despite being one of the younger children," Mark said. "Smart as hell too. Did you know he reads already?"

 

"I did too. Precocious."

 

"He's a great kid. I have to thank you for this last visit. Alice was happy taking care of him. She was a great mother."

 

"I'm sorry about her.”

 

"Yeah, hard to believe she's gone; your Scully too. I know you were separated and all, but it struck me that you and the boy's mother were good friends as well as a married couple. I don't think divorce would change that."

 

"It didn't. We remained friends."

 

"It wasn't your Alex that broke you up? I know I have no call to ask you but...."

 

"I didn't even know Alex was alive. I've known him for years, but we weren't lovers until we started our journey."

 

"That's good," Mark replied, watching the clean up crew work to clean the cafeteria and kitchen. "I respected Dana Scully. I liked her."

 

In the old days I would have been pissed at Mark's questions. Now I understood. Mark wanted William's happiness. I did too.

 

"Got lots to do," Mark said. "Going to join the clean up crew."

 

I nodded. My plans involved a long shower, clean clothing, and then I would see if I could reach Andrews Airbase. I wanted Walter to know we had made it this far.

 

OooOooO

 

Alex was still in slumber land when I finished showering. I had retrieved my spare clothing from the hybrid along with Alex's. The jeans and tee shirt I wore were the cleanest things I owned, which wasn't saying much. I found out from Mark that there were facilities for washing clothing. A tall thin woman from Mark's group had taken over the washers and dryers.

 

"You don't mind?" I asked, handing her the clothing.

 

"It’s fine," the woman said. "I like keeping busy."

 

It took me a minute to realize that she was the woman who had cried out for Tommy when the fast moving Dead attacked us. Her eyes were red-rimmed. It must have been like losing him all over again.

 

"Thanks," I said. "Ms?"

 

"Kendra," the woman said. "Kendra Harper. I know you. You're Mulder. I read about you and William's mom in the papers before the plague."

 

Scully and I had our moment in the sun before the world went dark again. I have to admit I had enjoyed the brief vindication until the restlessness of my nature had spoiled it. I said, "Yeah, that's me."

 

"We all need heroes," Kendra said before turning back to doing laundry.

 

"We all can be heroes," I corrected. There was a time I lacked respect for people like this, survivors rather than natural born warriors. I had learned though. I said, "Thank you for taking care of this." She didn't expect anything more nor did she realize her efforts to bring normal life to this shelter were as brave as anything else I had seen. 

 

The steady chug of the washer and dryer behind me, I moved to the communications center near the lab. A teenage boy who reminded me a bit of Langly was at the controls. He had an eyebrow ring and a tattoo of a dragon winding up his neck. However, he wore geek glasses, black ringed and his choice of clothing was classic Ringo. He wore a “Ramones Live” tee shirt in basic black.

 

"Dude, I have the internet working," the boy announced. "I'm talking to the old man."

 

"Which old man?" I asked.

 

"The Man," the boy said, with all capital letters in his voice. "one of the Gunmen, the one with the best kung fu, Langly!"

 

"Frohike wouldn't agree," I said.

 

"Oh, well, he's okay, but not in Ringo's class," junior Langly said.

 

It made me wonder if somewhere there are proper teenagers in out of date suits, yearning to grow neat beards in imitation of John Byers.

 

Finding out my Gunmen's deaths had been faked was one of the real moments of happiness in my life. I said, "I need to have Langly patch me through to a friend. Move over."

 

Reluctantly, the boy vacated the seat and I took over the keyboard. I typed, "Ringo, this is Mulder."

 

"Yeah? What's Tuesday dinner?" Ringo typed back.

 

"Philly Cheese Steak," I replied.

 

"Joey lives," Langly sent next.

 

"In your heart," I said. "At least, he died before he could walk the earth as the Dead."

 

"Joey might have liked that," Ringo typed. "Okay, you're Mulder. I'm glad to hear from you."

 

"Can you patch me through to Skinner?" I said.

 

The internet still worked from time to time and from place to place. Satellites supported a lot of it, but there were a lot of net failures. Geeks risked their lives to maintain telephone and power connections that supported their internet access.

 

After the first few days, survivors realized that maintaining the power grid was crucial to maintaining quality of life in urban areas. Although rural and isolated communities might do well with primitive sources of light and power, urban areas needed electricity to survive. Many cities perished because they could not take back and maintain electrical plants. 

 

From day to day, contact via the web was spotty, but when it worked, it felt like spitting in the face of death. I waited while Langly worked on patching me through to Walter.

 

"Mulder, where the hell have you been?" Walter wrote.

 

"On the road trip to hell," I replied. "Alex and I are okay. We have William and the rest of Mark Van de Kamp's people safe. We have some repairs to make and then we are going to the island."

 

"You don't suppose you could wait until I could get there to back you up?" Walter typed. 

 

"I don't think so, Walter. How's the vaccine research coming along?" I asked.

 

"They can't break the protein chain," Walter typed. "Something's very odd about the composition."

 

"The antiviral has an alien source," I wrote.

 

"What?" Walter wrote.

 

"I can't explain," I said.

 

There was no way I wanted the government to know that Alex was the source for the vaccine. I didn't trust them at all. I trusted Walter, but he was one man against hundreds. 

 

"We'll get the method for synthesizing the antivirus," I said.

 

Somehow, they had found a way to duplicate the natural resistance of Alex's immune system. Once we had that, Alex was reasonably safe. We would make damn sure that there was no way to identify him as the source. Bernice, Alex, Mark, and I were the only ones to know and we would keep it that way.

 

"Keep your people working on it," I said. "Alex and I will get the formula to you."

 

Before I signed off, I returned to talking to Langly. I thought it was a good idea for the Gunmen to move to Jeffrey and Brian's enclave if they could find a safe way of getting there. Ringo was uncertain. They were comfortable where they were, holed up in a shelter beneath an old warehouse. I said, "Well, if you could persuade Walter to build another hybrid, you could use that to get there. It's one of the safer places on earth."

 

With the maggots and the vaccine, Montana was going to be zombie free in a few years. That's where Alex and I would go. I hoped Mark would go with us. Mark had nothing left but my son. He had earned the right to be a daily part of William's life. 

 

I wanted the Gunmen to pull up roots and settle near us as well. I couldn't imagine life without Frohike, Langly, and Byers. It was bad enough that poor Jimmy Bond had fallen to the Dead. His smiling zombie had been seen wandering in a crowd that seemed trapped in a football stadium.

 

Walter...

 

Walter was a rival, but I loved Alex enough to live with that. If I had to share my lover, at least, it would be with the best man I know.

 

OooOooO

 

Alex wasn't in bed when I went looking for him. He was in the helicopter bay working on the tail damage. He gazed out at me, a streak of oil marking his nose and a frown denting his forehead. 

 

"How's it going?" I asked.

 

"I'm fixing it, but it's not easy," Alex said. "Take a look at the schematics and come look at the wiring. Maybe you can use that memory trick to see which wire I misplaced."

 

I moved my eyes between the static image in the manual Alex had lying out and the mass of wires. Finally, I could see where the spaghetti heap inside the tail was different and I pointed to the misconnection.

 

"Thanks," Alex grunted. He struggled with his pliers, cursed, and sweated until he had corrected the mistake. He picked up a small screw driver and fastened the wire back into the control panel.

 

There was a larger mass of scorched metal. I picked it up curiously. "What's this?"

 

"Part of the rotor assembly," Alex replied. "Don't ask me how we flew in here. I'd have to answer it was on a propeller blade and a prayer."

 

"Okay, I won't ask. I reached Skinner. He wanted us to wait for him."

 

"Still the same answer. You and I don't exactly have good luck, but we've both been in tight places and came out alive. I hope that's still a habit."

 

"When do we go," I asked.

 

"Soon. Not today. I want to make sure that the copter is sound and I thought we would do a fly over and see how the island looks. Then we give the Dead time to settle down and we go. There's a copter deck on the roof of the main laboratory. If we're lucky, the Dead will be outside."

 

"And if we're not lucky?"

 

"We fight our way in and we fight our way out," Alex said.

 

Alex's smile was a sharp blade. He let it rake across my senses before going back to work.

 

"Go spend some time with your son, Mulder," Alex said. "I can finish the rest on my own."

 

I was scared shitless. I heard Skinner tell people that I didn't know when to be afraid, but he was wrong. I didn't want to lose my son. I didn't want to see my lover dead. I wished we could tell the earth to live or die on its own. Duty sucks.

 

OooOooO

 

William was down for a nap when I found him. Mark had just tucked him in. I sat watching my son for a long time. I had never been that great with kids despite being accused of being childish by Scully. I respected parental instincts. I just wished my parents had more than they had. I always wondered what kind of father I would be and was afraid the answer was dismal if I had learned the role from Bill Mulder, the man I thought was my father.

 

All in all, I did okay. One thing that astounded me was how much I loved William. I had never known a connection so deep and so instant. I would have given him the world if I could. In a way, I was. I was struggling to give him a world with hope; a world where death was an end, not the beginning of new horror. 

 

I used to think I would be bored in a world of ordinary things. I yearned for morning routines now. I wanted a world where William would go to school. Where you didn't have to fight to survive every fucking moment of your life.

 

 

All right, so Alex and I would never be Ozzie and Harriet, but I anticipating a life that did not consist of missions of death defying importance every day. I wanted to start and end every day of the rest of my life with Alex in my arms. 

 

Mark was with Bernice La Roche in the lab when I found him. I said, "I'm glad you're both here. I need to talk to you about the vaccine."

 

"I'm trying to understand what they did. It looks as if they did an incomplete data erase so there are details missing," Bernice said.

 

"I need you to erase more of the data," I said. "I need you to delete any reference to Alex."

 

"Why?" Bernice said.

 

"Because certain people would be happy to keep him in a cage and drain him of his blood, a living source of the vaccine," I said. "For Alex, death would be kinder."

 

Mark nodded and said, "Do it, Bernice. Mulder knows what he's talking about."

 

Bernice's beautiful hazel eyes looked into mine. She nodded and said, "If you say so, Mark."

 

"Never mention Alex's role to anyone," I said. "Not to your best friend. No matter what they promise you."

 

Bernice was already working. Her fingers flew over the keyboard. "I'm good with computers,” she said. "By the time I'm done, no one should be able to decode the erased data."

 

"Just to be sure, add some notes indicating the subject died," I said. "Better safe than sorry."

 

"You really love Alex," Mark said.

 

"I really love Alex," I said.

 

"I'm glad you found someone after Dana died," Mark said.

 

By the way Mark was looking at Bernice, he was on his way to finding someone he could love as much as he loved Alice. I was happy for him.

 

"You might want to look at some of this data," Bernice said.

 

Moving to another terminal, I found the cache of data she wanted me to read. 

 

The outbreak was initially caused by a guard who broke into the lab and took what he thought was the antivirus. Fleeing to his family home in Georgia, he inoculated his friends and relatives. Too bad it was the virus, not the vaccine. 

 

The outbreak had spread throughout the state and outwardly after an attack at the airport in Atlanta. Several passengers were bitten by one of the Dead. He was killed without port police realizing what he was. Passengers with minor bite wounds had been allowed to travel on. One of the travelers was seriously ill by the time she reached New York. She died at the airport there and rose, again creating a situation in which many people were bitten. 

 

That was when the media control clamped down. Attacks were explained as Ebola, legionnaires disease, mad killing sprees. Anything but the truth. 

 

Homeland security measures allowed a ruthless extermination of smaller outbreaks, but it wasn't enough. The vector became an overwhelming flood of disease - the fourth horseman of the apocalypse, death.

 

The island's eventual demise was not internal as Alex thought. It was from the spread of plague back to the area of origin from SeaTac airport. Rapid flight had given wings to death. Hell of a lot more efficient than horseback.

 

The problem was that the island had a large captive population of the Dead. Someone panicked. Someone was careless. The captive zombies were released.

 

The scientists of the projects managed to escape with some of the vaccine, some of the research material, and with their lives. They had come to this shelter and seemed to have continued their work until another mistake resulted in the Dead being released among them. They had fled again with the mutated blowflies that they thought would speed the decay and the decline of the Dead.

 

For all the hatred I felt for them, I realized that they had given us tools. The occurrence of the Dead eating maggots in the wild meant the scientists has survived long enough to seed the blowflies.

 

I suppose they hoped that God would forgive them. I know that those of us left to live in the world of the Dead would not.

 

OooOooO 

 

There was a time when I would have stayed at that computer until thirst, hunger, or exhaustion overwhelmed me. I craved the truth, to burst through the maze of secrets, conspiracy, and double talk that had surrounded me since birth. Even now, I felt so much frustration because part of the drive had been destroyed. I was barred again from what I needed to know. 

 

The information wasn't there. It was gone. It would be on the island or it was lost somewhere in Montana, wherever the remaining scientists took refuge. I looked up after closing out of the terminal. Mark and Bernice were gone. I didn't know what you could do for a romantic stroll in this place of concrete and metal walls, but I hoped that they found some place to build new dreams. We all needed new dreams.

 

William wasn't sleeping where I had last seen him. I found him with Alex working on the copter. At least, William seemed to think he was helping. Alex looked as if he was in over his head.

 

"I'm helping, Daddy," William said.

 

I smirked at Alex when my lover's head emerged from under the copter. "How did you find the help?"

 

"Just lucky, I guess," Alex said. He blinked as my son placed a tool in his hand. 

 

"Thanks, William," Alex said. "How did you know I needed that?"

 

"Saw a picture," William said. "Daddy Mark doesn't like me to see think pictures."

 

When we had won custody of William, I accepted Scully's belief that Jeff had managed to defuse the alien elements in our son's body. I had suppressed my curiosity for Scully's sake. 

 

"Do you see pictures that other people are thinking a lot?" I asked.

 

"Sometimes," William replied, his small forehead crinkling into a frown.

 

"Do you ever see the sick people's pictures?" Alex asked.

 

I didn't care for that at all. I didn't even want to consider that William could sense what was going on in a zombie's decaying mind.

 

"They don't have pictures," William said. "They want to eat. They want not to hurt. That's all."

 

My knees went a little weak. I wanted to tell my son to shut them out. I didn't want him to have to live with the horror of knowing what the walking Dead experience.

 

William hugged me, squeezing his chubby arms around my neck. "It's okay, Daddy. If I didn’t feel them, I wouldn't know when to hide."

 

Hiding didn't help much. They always sensed us. They were compelled to find us.

 

William said, "I hide and if they try to find me, I make them hurt so bad they go away."

 

I put William down, stared at his innocent face.

 

"I told Mommy I could send them away," William said. "She didn't believe me. She tried to lead them away. That's how they made her sick."

 

"William, you know it's not polite to make things up," I said.

 

"I didn't!" William insisted, tears starting to form. "I can make them go away."

 

Before I could say more, Alex said, "Mulder, he's your son. How do you feel when you know something and people shut you out without giving you a chance to explain?"

 

"Scully wanted William to have a normal life," I insisted.

 

Alex's chuckle surprised me. "What's normal? Seems to me that the kid's half you and half Scully. He can handle spooky stuff, Mulder."

 

"He's not your kid, Alex," I said. "You wouldn't understand."

 

"I understand surviving, Mulder," Alex reminded me. "That's what I do best. Your kid is a survivor. He's going to make it. Ask him if what he senses scares him."

 

I really hate it when Alex is right. I stroked William's curls into place. He scowled and tossed his head, sending all those ringlets wildly about his head. Okay. He was my kid. He was going to question authority.

 

"William, are you frightened of what you sense from the sick people?" I asked.

 

"Daddy," William said, sounding disgusted at my dense nature. "Daddy, they aren't sick people. They are the Dead."

 

I guess William told me. I said, "William, when you feel the hunger and pain from the Dead, does that scare you?"

 

"No, Daddy," William said. "I push it back at them. I make them want to go away from me."

 

My son scowled at me. "I get mad when people don't believe me."

 

I wanted to laugh. I said, "Me too, William. I'll try to believe you."

 

Looking at Alex, I said, "Let's not discuss this with anyone else. I don't want anyone exploiting my son."

 

"Agreed," Alex said. "Too bad he can't teach you the trick. That could come in handy."

 

I never thought I would be the one to be uncomfortable with strange talents. I guess being a parent changes you. My bitter satisfaction in being different didn't extend to William. I wanted things to be easier for him.

 

"It's all right, Daddy," William said. "I like me."

 

Ah, hell, I swept my son up and hugged him hard. "I like you too, William, just the way you are."

 

After a moment, William wiggled away and said, "I have to help Alex, Daddy."

 

Alex grinned again and said, "Almost done, William."

 

Going back to his delicate work, Alex carefully reconnected a wire. He reached for a plate to screw it back in place. William slipped under the helicopter to hold it for Alex.

 

"You're a big help," Alex said.

 

My son beamed. I squatted to watch the two people I loved best in the world.

 

Alex finished and rolled out from under the helicopter. He dusted off the overalls he donned to protect his clothing. 

 

I helped Alex by patting his ass. The dust must have adored Alex's plump derriere as much as I did.

 

"You're going to scar the kid's psyche," Alex grumbled. 

 

"I like you in this overall," I said. "Reminds me of one of my favorite movies."

 

Alex leaned down, giving me a good view of his assets as he put the tools away with William's help. Finished, Alex walked over to put the tool box away in its niche. "That's it," Alex said. "Nothing to stop us from going now."

 

Alex didn't sound happy. I understood that. We were safe. We were together. The fate of the world rested in our hands, but it was hard to think about going back out, risking our lives. Even if I survived the experience, I don't think I could stand losing one more person.

 

OooOooO

 

"Want to ride helicopter," William asked.

 

Alex looked at me, his perfect eyebrow lifted.

 

I nodded. Alex walked over to the monitor and switched it on. "Damn things are still wondering around," he said. "Not too many of them, but I don't know if we want to take a test flight with the boy if any of them are there."

 

William walked over to the monitor and frowned at it. He seemed to be thinking hard.

 

The circling zombies paused. One of them stumbled. Finally the handful of the Dead lurched away. I had never seen any of them leave a place where they sensed prey. I looked at my son with wonder and respect. 

 

"I couldn't make them go away at Daddy Mark's house," William said sadly.

 

"That's all right, son," I said. "You're just a little boy."

 

William nodded and ran toward the helicopter. His face was vivid with excitement, pink spots blushing on his cheeks. He climbed into the helicopter into the co-pilot's seat. I said, "Not yet, William, we might need the guns and that's my job."

 

Alex checked the systems before allowing the launch pad to rise with the helicopter in place. The day outside was beautiful. It was sunny with a blue sky dotted with impossible fluffy white clouds. For the moment, with the Olympic Mountains rising in the distance and the dense forest of green shimmering, it was hard to believe that anything troubled this land.

 

"I'll fly over toward the island," Alex said.

 

We passed a few more bonfires of the Dead. Some human resistance had made a successful foray. What must have once been a car lot was filled with careening figures of zombies. They had been lured into the lot and locked inside. Now they burned.

 

I could see the human army with guns pointed at the blazing figures, least any of them escape. 

 

Alex said, "Good work on their part. Saves ammunition."

 

Holding back my retort, I realized that it did make sense. If my son was right, the Dead were in such pain that even a fiery end was a mercy. I understood the hate that the living felt for the monsters they incinerated. 

 

Alex lifted away and continued to the islands. He flew low over the sparkling sound. 

 

"Whales!" William cried happily. 

 

It was a large school of them. They danced and played in the sunlit water. They were killer whales. I had seen them before when I visited, but never so many. 

 

"Not many boats on the water to scare them away," Alex said.

 

We continued our flight until we reached our destination. Ram Island was a sliver of land near Lopez Island. The Project had scooped out the center of the land, replacing the trees with concreted and vast walls.

 

The lab was the largest building. I could see the roof landing pad. There were a few zombies milling around outside, not many, but that didn't mean there weren't more inside.

 

"How many test subjects did they have?" I asked.

 

"Fifty," Alex said. "Staff of about twenty guards and lab technicians. A dozen scientists."

 

"So we shouldn't be facing more than a hundred Dead. Easy."

 

"Mulder, you are so full of sh...," Alex said, stopping himself from completing his sentence once he remembered William was with us.

 

I grinned and said, "We have faced worse odds."

 

"But this time, we won't be safe behind a half ton of metal," Alex said.

 

"Scared?" I teased.

 

"Damn right," Alex said. "Fear has kept me alive so far. Fear is what nature gave us so we know when to run." He glared at me with his cat green eyes.

 

I smiled at Alex and said, "You be scared for both of us."

 

"I already am," Alex said. "I'm ready to go back, give them time to settle down before tomorrow."

 

OooOooO

 

William spent the night with us, preventing any thoughts of love making. I contented myself with a kiss on Alex's lips and his hand touching me through the night, never slackening his grip even in the deepest of sleep. He loves me.

 

I woke up, feeling as if someone was looking at me. William's crystal blue eyes were inches from my face. I said, "Hey, something wrong?"

 

"Alex having bad dream," William said.

 

Alex's fingers dug into me. He was frowning, his mouth open as he mumbled incoherent words.

 

"Alex, wake up," I said. "It's morning."

 

A moment later I picked my ass off the floor. He had warned me not to wake him when he was asleep.

 

Alex peered down at me, still partially tangled in the sheet. He said, "Sorry."

 

My son applied some force and sent Alex, who had been leaning over the edge of the bed off balance, down to join me. "Don't push my Daddy," William said.

 

Alex rolled his eyes and groaned, "Another generation of getting my ass beat by Mulders."

 

"He'll love you like I do," I said.

 

"Not exactly as you do," Alex reminded, "I'll remind you of the difference when we get back."

 

"That should keep me motivated to come back," I said.

 

I noticed my son never asked me to stay. He never questioned my choice. I suppose he understood things in a way no child should have to understand. His world was a hard one, but I promised myself it would be better.

 

We ate a light breakfast. I would have skipped it, but Alex insisted. There was light weight Kevlar armor in the supplies here. I donned mine, amazed at how familiar it felt despite the length of time since I last wore similar armor.

 

Alex looked hot in his, the close fitting black uniform hugging his body, showing me his long legs, his powerful rounded thighs, his broad chest. His face was pale and his eyes luminous above the black vest and shirt. 

 

"Just remember, armor can slow a bite, but if they get you down, nothing can save you," Alex said.

 

Mark had William. I could kiss Alex one more time. I held him in my arms, held him tight. Our lips met, breath mingling. We kissed deeply. I could feel his heart pounding. My heart pounded too. Briefly, our lips parted. His mouth was red and wet. His chest heaved with passion. His eyes were huge, wild with emotion. We reached for each other again and I think we might have taken the armor off to writhe together on the armory floor if Mark hadn't knocked on the door.

 

Gathering our wits, we looked at each other. We were warriors. We were lovers. 

 

If we lived or if we died, no one could take this from us. We would always be together...I felt as if part of us had always been united. 

 

"You ready?" Mark asked.

 

"Yes," I said. I reached for Alex's hand, holding onto it hard. We walked like that to the helicopter.

 

"You'll be safe here," I said. "If we fail, you'll have everything you need."

 

"The boy won't have you," Mark said. "The boy loves his father."

 

"I love him too," I said, "but I know you will watch over him. You're his father too."

 

"If you don't come back, I'll make sure he remembers you," Mark said.

 

Who would remember Alex? A lot of people I suppose. Walter, Jeff, Brian, all of the people on the reservation. He never said if he had any family. Maybe I was the closest thing he had.

 

Alex made one final check of the equipment. "It's good," he said. "Let's go."

 

I fastened my seatbelt, feeling mildly hot in the light armor. My belt bristled with grenades, ammunition. It was a good thing I had been in near constant combat this past year. I was conditioned now. I could carry the extra weight without exhausting myself.

 

The day was overcast, unlike yesterday. The whales had moved on, finding a new place to play.

 

I could see a large group of the Dead moving across the pier near Friday Harbor. They were running after two men, a woman, and a couple of kids. I think the family was trying to get to a house boat that was tethered at the dock.

 

Without being asked, Alex zeroed down and said, "What are you waiting for, shoot."

 

I strafed the front runners, watching them fall. We used the weapons to herd the Dead away from their prey. Some of them fell in the water, flailing around before disappearing from sight.

 

I watched the family climb on the yacht. We kept the dock clear long enough for the yacht to pull away. They waved at us from the deck, grateful; perhaps wondering where their miracle had come from and where we were going.

 

Alex grunted as we set back on course. "Don't expect me to ever do that again. Just a fluke."

 

"Sure, hard case," I said. "It's a good thing you don't give a damn about people and just take care of you. Otherwise, we'd never have reached this point in our mission."

 

"Don't be smug, Mulder, we still have hell waiting for us."

 

I'll face hell and spit in the devil's eyes if Alex is by my side. 

 

Touchstones are good, but sometimes you want an angel out of hell by your side.

 

OooOooO

 

I checked my weapons again as Alex flew toward the island. There were more of the Dead stirring today. I had hoped that the maggots might have infested them, but they looked intact. 

 

A large black man leaped toward us, running with great speed as we flew over. I laughed as I saw the creature run full speed into a wall.

 

Alex grumbled, "You got a weird ass sense of humor, Mulder."

 

"Hey, if you stop laughing, you may as well be dead," I replied.

 

Alex landed on the roof. We whispered at the same time, "One, two, three...."

 

We shot out of the helicopter together, covering each other as we moved from the safety of the copter to check all sides of the building. 

 

The lab was four stories above ground, perhaps more beneath. The landing pad occupied most of the roof. There was a corpse lying half covered by a tarp. Ropy blackened strips of flesh was all that was left of the parts of the body that could be seen. The man had been shot at close range. He must have been infected and concealed it until the last moment. We had a couple incidents like that at Andrews despite the tight security. In the first few weeks, patrols hadn't always realized that a bite, no matter how trivial was a death sentence. They covered up for an injured comrade, paying the consequence later.

 

The roof was free of the Dead.

 

I walked toward the main elevator, but Alex shook his head. He said, "Safer to use Spender's private elevator."

 

Alex entered a code in a panel and I heard a groaning response. The elevator door appeared as Alex stepped back, gun drawn. His caution was for nothing. The elevator was empty.

 

"Where's the lab located?" I asked.

 

"Second floor," Alex answered with a grimace.

 

"Shit," I summarized. 

 

Alex didn't bother to answer. He reached down and checked his ankle holster. I was as ready as I was going to be. The elevator was jerky. It would be a fucked up scenario to come all this way and die in an elevator accident. 

 

The door slid open with a grinding sound. The immediate hallway was clear, but one of the Dead turned at the noise and lumbered toward us. It moaned and the other Dead stopped their hunger-driven wandering to turn toward us. I fired steadily, feeling the buck of my gun. 

 

"Three doors down," Alex said. 

 

It might as well have been a million miles. My gun bucked in my hands. Alex and I fell into a rhythm, clearing the way, turning to keep from being attacked from behind. The Dead kept coming; they hungered.

 

Flashes of horror came in strobe like visions. A lurching man in a coast guard uniform, his head dangling to one side from the attack that had killed him, led the pack. A woman in a shredded lab coat, with one naked bloody breast exposed by the remains of her garment and a blackened wound where the other would be, staggered within a few feet of us. A young boy dragged himself toward us using his arms. His legs had been ripped away. I didn't notice him until his hand brushed my boot. I kicked him away and Alex put him out of his misery.

 

"Push them back," Alex shouted. "Keep them moving away from the elevator."

 

I didn't understand, but I knew Alex had a plan so I worked with him. It was grueling, sickening, endless slaughter.

 

I don't know how many of the Dead we destroyed. I know my gun was hot in my hands and I wished I had worn gloves as Alex did. Alex said, "Soon, Mulder, we're almost there."

 

At this point, I saw that we were moving away from the third door. There were no more Dead from that direction and I didn't understand what we were doing. I shot and shot again. That corridor stank of old death. The floor was slimy with rotten blood and shards of diseased flesh.

 

Alex ducked into the alcove between the second and the third doors. He stopped firing and I was left to hold back the Dead alone. My heart was hammering. Sweat was burning my eyes. I wanted to curse Alex, but couldn't spare the breath to do it.

 

There was a rumble and then a gate slowly ground down out of the ceiling. A few more blasts and the Dead on this side of the gate were finally truly dead. However, several of the corpses jammed the gate. 

 

"Cover me," Alex said. 

 

Cover him? I had no idea what Alex thought he was doing, but I continued to fire at the Dead who clawed at the gate, trying to get under it.

 

Alex had a push broom in his hand. He shoved the corpses away from the barrier. Hands reached through the mesh and the Dead growled as they lunged toward my lover. Alex stopped and shot through the mesh with his Glock, firing precisely to take out the more aggressive of the Dead. 

 

I saw what Alex was doing and joined him. Finally the gate was clear and it settled into its groove, leaving the remaining Dead snarling on the other side. 

 

Alex and I checked to be sure that all the Dead were finished. The technician I had seen with missing breast was twitching. The bullet had partially severed her spine, disrupting the weak signals from her brain. She twitched, no longer able to hunt, but still not entirely dead. I aimed at her forehead, sending most of her brain splattering the wall behind her.

 

The gate was strong and we had killed at least fifty of the Dead. More were arriving, but they were blocked from getting to us. They pushed against the gate, ravenous and insatiable. 

 

"We better get to the lab," Alex said. 

 

"You sure you don't want to take a tour of the island instead? Go sea shell collecting?" 

 

"Mulder, you are such a fucker. And next time, wear your gloves."

 

"Yes, mother," I replied, but he was right. Here all this time I thought those thin leather gloves were a hangover from wearing the prosthetic arm.

 

Alex pulled open the door to the laboratory as I covered him. Lights flickered back on. Nothing moved. Equipment was overturned. I could see boxes spilled on the floor. I was tempted to move directly to the computers banked against one wall, but Alex said, "Search first."

 

There were no bodies. I think the gate might have been up as the laboratory was being evacuated. The Project’s staff was in a hurry, but they had enough time to take part of the equipment.

 

Alex didn't bother looking for information. He went to the first computer and jerked out the hard drive. I wasn't as fast as he was, but I had done this before. We worked together, harvesting the hard drives and any disks that we found.

 

The computer media went into our back packs. Alex loaded boxes of the antiviral onto file carts. We would have to make more than one trip. Lovely....

 

OooOooO

 

We settled the last of the antivirus in the helicopter and sat down to drink some water.

 

"It was too easy," Alex grumbled.

 

"The first part wasn't," I said. 

 

"Seems like after fighting our way across the country to get here that twenty minutes of fighting is an anti-climax," Alex said. He arched his head back, letting the water flow over his face. I swallowed, looking at his long beautiful neck. 

 

"Tonight, we are going to lock the door, William can spend the night with Mark, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't move," I said.

 

"Won't take much," Alex said. "I'm exhausted."

 

"We could just leave," I said. "Not look in those other labs."

 

"As if that's what you really want to do," Alex said. 

 

Grinning, I leaned back and watched the clouds go by. It could have been break time anywhere, anytime, except for the moans of the Dead as they milled below us.

 

Alex and I should have more of these times when we worked as partners. We should have had a life time together...if only. I'd take what was left, though, and I would cherish every moment I spent with him.

 

After a thirty minute break, Alex stood up to gently warm up his tired muscles. We had both drank a nasty protein drink with supplemental nutrients to compensate for the hard physical work and stress. 

 

I never took care of myself when I was with the X-Files. I always became frustrated with my body when I became sick or hurt. Alex liked his body better. Either that or he had no choice. No one would have taken care of him when he was ill. I hate to think of that period right after his arm was amputated. I reached over for him, his body clad in armor, his sweat surging with testosterone. 

 

I move aside the face shield to kiss Alex, his lips opening to me.

 

"What was that for?" Alex asked as I lowered the face shield. 

 

"For luck," I said. "For love."

 

Alex shook his head, but he had kissed me back as long as I kissed him.

 

Our hungry friends were still pawing at the gate. They moaned louder in excitement. One of the Dead was a giant who would have made Walter look like an anorexic midget. He pounded on the gate, bellowing. Not a nice fellow when he was alive, I would bet, and now he was even uglier and surlier.

 

The second door held cages. A few starved looking Dead feebly crawled about in their cages or lay snapping their jaws, too decayed to even attempt movement.

 

A few of the cages held nothing but bones and the husks of blowflies. I saw some heaps of something covered with the mold we had observed at the sanctuary.

 

Alex found another computer and knelt to take out the hard drive. I opened a door cautiously and saw nothing. The room looked as if it had been used for storage. There were a few crates, but even if it was more vaccine, we had as much as we could carry. Alex finished and we moved to the last room, leaving the door open behind us.

 

The last room held more records. We searched until we found the records of the experiments on Alex. Alex and I worked quickly, trying to find records about the serum development as well as any materials that detailed the experiments that led to the mutation from super soldier to walking Dead.

 

"Better go," Alex said. He carried a box of records as did I. 

 

"Do you hear something?" I asked.

 

It was a grating sound. 

 

"Shit! The gate!" Alex yelled.

 

There was a damn zombie in the corridor. It looked oddly familiar dressed in its blood stained suit. I swear the bastard was grinning at us as it clumsily pushed the lever. 

 

"It's fucking Spender!" Alex yelled.

 

We shot at the same time, the smoking man's head exploding into a cascade of fragments. He fell, but the gate was half way open. 

 

The first zombies to get through were mutilated, legless, crawling corpses. They were followed by a zombie whose head and upper torso flopped forward, her body nearly bisected by a blackened wound that hollowed her abdomen.

 

The more intact Dead seemed to figure it out. They pushed their handicapped brethren aside to get at meat...Alex and me. We dropped the boxes to fight.

 

"We'll take the stairs," Alex said, running past Spender's corpse. His greenish yellow hand twitched one last time as if to drag Alex down to hell with him.

 

The door opened, but more dead were crawling up the stairs. The Dead don't climb well, but hunger is a great motivator.

 

We were trapped between the two groups of the Dead. Back to back we fired, defending each other. We had come all this way. Were we to end our lives here as food for the Dead?

 

Alex suddenly uttered a guttural sound and I realized one of the Dead had slipped past the others. 

 

"It's a super soldier," Alex said. "I recognize him."

 

The creature was on Alex, still very fast in this mutation. I whirled to shoot it, but Alex had a magnetite stiletto in his hand. He cracked the soldier's skull and stirred until the creature stopped. Pushing the corpse away, Alex struggled to rise. 

 

"Muscles torn in my leg," Alex gasped. He hobbled to his feet, but we were going to have to get to the elevator if we were going to get out of here. Both of us fired into the door that led to the stairway, dropping more of the Dead. I managed to shut the door again and bolt it.

 

The mob of the Dead clotted the hallway in front of us. We had driven them back once, but now we were weary and Alex was injured.

 

My love could still shoot, but every step he took was agony. He said, "You can fly the copter, Mulder. It can almost fly itself."

 

"No, I can't," I said. "It's not happening. Keep going."

 

We killed with each shot. The Dead fell and more came. Always more. Then another super soldier turned Dead lunged at Alex and he went down again. I couldn't help him. I had to keep shooting or they would all be on us.

 

I never felt so much fear in my life. I was going to lose Alex like I lost Scully. 

 

I was going to lose him!

 

OooOooO

 

I could hear grunts of pain forced from Alex. I knew he was alive and fighting to stay that way. I couldn't spare a moment to look at my lover. My gun fire could barely keep the Dead back. I felt rage and fear building in me. The floor ran with putrid, blackened fluids. Several of the faster moving Dead slipped in the gore, tripping others.

 

In the brief respite, I glimpsed a clear shot and aimed at the Dead super soldier. I saw the creature's skull explode and, a moment later, Alex struggled to his feet after severing his attacker's head and smashing it. Alex's side was wet with blood and his leg was dragging. His teeth flashed as he snarled in pain. He grabbed my belt to steady himself with his left hand, but he raised his gun to kill the first of the Dead that made it past the bottleneck.

 

"Alex?" I said as I slammed a bullet into the next hungry zombie.

 

"Keep shooting," Alex said. "I should have waited until I taught you to fly. I'm sorry."

 

We were yards from the elevator, but it might as well have been the distance to the sun. There were at least thirty of the Dead still mobile. I saw one pushing past the others. It was another supersoldier. 

 

"God Damn it," I screamed. "Go back to your fucking graves. Get away from us. Get the fuck back!"

 

To my shock, I saw the supersoldier falter in his rush. His glazed eyes cast about as if he could not see us, his prey. The ceaseless greedy moan of the Dead became confused grunts. I could see Alex raising his gun to fire again and I stopped him. I saw a flash of defiance in his eyes, but I raised my finger to my lips.

 

It was the first time I could ever remember feeling any gratitude to Spender and the rest of his conspiracy of old men. Somehow my altered genes were triggered by my fear and hate, controlling the diseased minds of these monsters.

 

As our eyes met, I know that Alex must be weighing all of our long history of pain and strife against the love and trust of the last few weeks. I saw him nod and his grip on my belt grew stronger. 

 

In front of us, the Dead milled around, stumbled over the bodies of their former companions. Momentary interest faded as soon as they sensed that this was not prey, not living meat.

 

Some sound from outside made the bulk of the remaining Dead pull back from the elevator and move toward the bank of windows. Dead hands pounded on the glass until the mass of eager Dead broke through. I heard startled grunts as several of the Dead fell through. More of the Dead moved toward the sound, apparently responding to the commotion in hopes of prey.

 

Alex and I were mere feet from the elevator. The nearest of the Dead was yards away. I could feel Alex lagging and I knew he was losing blood, too much blood. I wanted to help him but it would have to wait until we reached the roof.

 

I pressed the button to call the elevator. The door slid open and the nearest of the Dead turned and snarled. It lumbered in our direction, uttering that hungry moan that would call his brothers. Alex pulled straighter, glanced at me and I nodded. Our shots took out the first of the Dead. We continued to fire as the doors slid shut, so slow ... too damned slow.

 

Greenish hands, nails black with clotted blood, pried at the closing doors. Arms pushed through. At first they were not strong enough to open the doors, but I could see the machinery start to yield to the combined efforts of the Dead.

 

I heard rasp and when I looked, Alex was lopping at the twitching hands with his machete like knife. I drew mine also and smashed at the intruding flesh, rotten flesh splattering us. The machinery lurched and then the door closed, the remaining fingers going with us. With a thump, Alex fell to his knees. I grabbed for my first aid supplies. Alex said, "Keep that gun up. I can do this."

 

Alex hissed as he poured antiseptic over the bites. The one in his right arm was the worst. The elevator door opened. Nothing. No movement. Nothing but the helicopter.

 

OooOooO

 

Alex sat on a box as I tended to his wounds. What he really needed was a transfusion, but I gave him antibiotics, a pain killer, and, reluctantly, a stimulant.

 

"You going to be able to do this?" I asked. 

 

"We haven't any shelter. I'm going to need blood," Alex said. "I have to be able to do it. I walked back to that camp we escaped from after they chopped off my arm. I always do what I have to do. Always."

 

Alex drank some water as I held him, trying to lend him some of my strength.

 

"Shouldn't have got greedy," Alex said. "Shouldn't have made that last trip. I made a shit poor decision and we nearly paid for it with our lives."

 

 

"It can happen to the best of us," I said. "Ready?"

 

"Yeah," Alex grunted out.

 

I picked Alex up, nearly carrying him to the helicopter. He gasped for a few moments than he took my hand and put it on his knee. "Don't let me pass out," he said.

 

My lover's face was paper white. He could barely use his right hand. I don't know if this was the right decision. If we waited, he might die and I would be left alone, waiting for a rescue that would probably never come. Alex was tough. I trusted his strength and his will. We would make it. We had to.

 

OooOooO

 

The Dead below circled, stumbling as they reached toward us. Alex darted low and said, "Drop a couple of incendiary bombs on them. If we have to come back, I want it to be easier."

 

"Getting lazy in your old age?" I asked, as the bombs shot downward. 

 

Below twin explosions bloomed. When the fire and smoke cleared, there wasn't much movement. Alex dipped again and I strafed anything still moving. 

 

"Fuckers," Alex said.

 

I didn't think Alex was into revenge so I was surprised that he was willing to delay treatment to exterminate the undead on this island.

 

Alex said, "If I thought we really had every piece of information, I'd blow the entire island sky high. I don't want any more super soldier zombies getting to the mainland. It's hard enough to kill the damn things."

 

Understanding, I moved my hand so that it rested nearly on Alex's groin. I wanted him to know I was there and remind him of what he would miss if he died on me.

 

"I've got the helicopter on as much auto pilot as I can," Alex said. "Keep talking to me. Don't let me get groggy."

 

I smirked at Alex and said, "The U.S. Department of transportation estimates that over 190,000 fatal care crashes every year are linked to sleepiness."

 

"Bastard," Alex snarled. 

 

"Got that right," 

 

"You think that getting me pissed off is going to keep us from crashing?" 

 

"I think a blow job would be too distracting," I said, moving my hand until I could feel the outline of his cock. 

 

"Guess so," Alex replied. 

 

"How are you doing?" 

 

"Just keep reminding me of all the good things we're going to miss if I can’t fly this bird." 

 

"You're going to miss a trip around the world.” 

 

"Mulder, I don't think we're going to get things back in...." He shot me a wan smile as his brain processed what I’d said. "Yeah, okay, that's a trip worth taking." 

 

A hiss of pain escaped from Alex as he reached for the controls. He tightened his lips, completed the action, and settled back, even paler.

 

 

"Mulder, tell me about your strangest case," Alex said. "One of the really weird ones. No aliens or dead people."

 

"How about a minor league alien?" 

 

"What?" 

 

"Have you heard of two brothers by the name of Dales?" 

 

"Yeah, never met them, but they had files in the Project," Alex said.

 

"I went to investigate a picture I saw. I thought it was Arthur Dales and it was. However, it was not the Arthur Dales I knew, but another one. He told me that he was assigned to guard a black baseball player that was being touted as the guy who would break the color barriers," I said.

 

"Jackie Robinson was the guy who did that," Alex said. "1945, the first African American player in the major leagues."

 

"I didn't know you enjoyed baseball," I replied.

 

Alex snorted and said, "It could be that I'm interested in civil rights."

 

I stared at Alex until he said, "Yeah, I like baseball. Basketball too. If there are ever organized sports again, we'll watch them together. Now what about Dales?"

 

"Dales told me that the reason why Josh Exley didn't want to play for the major leagues was because he was a Grey alien," I explained.

 

"You believed that?"

 

"Sure," I said. "He loved the game so much he deserted his race to play it. He loved it so much that he became as human as the game."

 

"I like the story," Alex said. He grimaced and held his hand to his head."

 

I kept talking, telling Alex about my cases, talking about our future. Anything to keep Alex conscious. My hand on his thigh connected us. I offered him my strength and he knew he had my love.

 

There were a few zombies wandering near the platform. Alex flew over them erratically and I shot them, strafing them until there was nothing left but mangled flesh to make sure they wouldn't bother us.

 

We sat down heavily, a bit unevenly. I held on, was jerked forward by the hard landing. When I looked at Alex, he was out. I turned the helicopter off so our friends below could lower us to safety.

 

I reached over to find Alex's pulse, rejoicing that I could feel the fast faint beat of his heart.

 

Mark had a crew waiting with a stretcher. We didn't have a doctor, but we had the nurse, Bernice LaRoche. She had set up an infirmary in the lab. I helped her undress Alex, wincing at the bites on his arm and the claw marks on his stomach. I had thought the belly wounds were bites also, but once we had Alex undressed, it was evident that the super soldier had been trying to get to the soft flesh of the abdomen, always a favorite place for a feast of human flesh. 

 

"He's going to need blood," Bernice said.

 

"We're both O negative," I said. "Give him some of my blood."

 

"I'll do that,' Bernice said. "Mark, round me up some more type O negative donors. I'm going to need more than Mulder can provide."

 

My arm yielded to the needles. I watched my blood trickle into Alex's veins as Bernice stitched up the deeper bites on Alex's arm.

 

"I don't think his ankle is broken," Bernice said.

 

"Don't tell him that," I said. "I want him to be motivated to stay in bed."

 

"Your friend, Mr. Skinner, is on his way here," Bernice said.

 

"What?" I asked. "Why?"

 

"The president announced a new policy, an extension of the old homeland security plan. All resources must be relinquished to central control. They went after some other friends of yours who would not cooperate. Skinner hijacked one of the helicopters with some of his men and rescued them," Bernice explained.

 

"He's a good man," I said. "Alex will be happy to see Walter."

 

Walter was my friend and he must have taken huge risks to save the Gunmen. I trusted that Alex loved me deeply and I know I loved him enough to be happy with him... even if I ended up sharing him.

 

"He's going to be all right," I said to Bernice.

 

"He lost a lot of blood," Bernice said. "He's going into shock. I don’t know how he stayed conscious this long."

 

"He had to get me back here," I said. "He had to get the vaccine back here. Alex is a determined man."

 

"I know all about stubborn men," Bernice said with a sad smile. She returned to her work, placing clean bandages over Alex' many wounds.

 

OooOooO

 

I didn't want to leave Alex's side, but I wanted to hold my son. When Mark returned with a gaggle of volunteers, I went out in the corridor and scooped William up.

 

"Don't worry, Daddy. Alex will be okay," William said, patting my cheeks with his plump little hands.

 

"I know, William," I said.

 

My son scowled at me and said, "No, I KNOW, Daddy. I saw it."

 

I wouldn't be my son's Scully. I had loved Scully for many reasons, not many of them having anything to do with her skeptical nature. This was my son, but he was also a miracle of sorts, an engineered wonder. I had to accept him for what he was. Perhaps he was not completely human, but I could still love him as if he was. I was glad that Walter was coming and that Mark and Alex would be by my side.

 

It came to my mind that William was the savior that some thought he would be. Yet his future may not have been to save us from the aliens that made up part of his genome, but from the Dead, human once, human never again.

 

OooOooO

 

Much later, I sat with William asleep in my arms as I held Alex's hand. Alex had opened his eyes briefly, saw me, brought my fingers to his mouth to kiss them and fell back asleep almost instantly. 

 

I couldn't leave Alex. I wanted to be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, the last thing before he closed them for the rest of his life. I wanted to grow old with him.

 

William was heavy in my lap. He was sweating and his breath was damp on my neck. His heart beat against mine. I think this was one of the sweetest moments in my life, my son, my lover, and me. We were safe, at least for now. 

 

I would have never foreseen this moment. Many times on this journey I had wondered how life would have been different if so many years ago I had taken Alex's hand when he held it out. 

 

When I rode beside Alex in the hybrid and I studied his intent profile as he drove, I would think back to when he was very young. I had glanced at him when he was not looking, wishing I dared to trust him. I remembered how good it felt to have his strong body so close to mine as we worked.

 

I don't know. It's been a long journey, through time and nearly across the world at times. We're different people now, harder, more able, and yet I think we are more capable of love now with all of our losses and suffering.

 

Hearing a noise at the door, I saw Walter standing there. He said, "Just got in."

 

"Come in," I said. 

 

Walter walked across the room. I saw the Gunmen peering from the doorway, the three faces in a row, looking like some geek totem pole.

 

I waved them inside as well.

 

Walter looked at me for permission and I nodded at him. He sat down opposite of me. There was a fresh scar across his face and I noticed that one of his legs had moved stiffly.

 

"So what happened?" I asked.

 

"Mutiny," Walter said. He reached down and took Alex's hand in his own. He was silent for long moments as he gazed down at Alex.

 

Sighing, Walter said, "We had raided the city almost dry and it was getting harder to find supplies without a full fleet of the hybrids. A couple of other units took off not long after you and Alex left. Too many missions and not enough rewards. They got sick of it and never came back from a mission. After that, the president ordered that only men with families be allowed out on long missions."

 

"The president conscripted the resources of people who were doing okay on their own," Walter said.

 

"Like us," Frohike said.

 

"Dragged us back to their Government fascist fort," Langly said. "Told us that we were working for them."

 

"So we declined," Byers said. "I'm as patriotic as the next man, but I was raised a democrat."

 

"We said fuck you," Frohike said. "We would have made it out on our own, but Walter decided he had enough. He broke us out of jail. He and his buddies hijacked the President's own helicopter. Left those bastards to stew in their own juices."

 

"They have enough left to defend themselves," Walter shot in.

 

"I never saw you as a rebel," I teased.

 

"You saw what I wanted you to see," Walter said.

 

Alex moaned and opened his eyes. He smiled when he saw me then looked startled when he saw Walter.

 

"Am I dead?" Alex asked. 

 

"Not hardly," Frohike said.

 

"Oh, I thought...." He looked from me to Walter. "Figured that waking up with both of you looking at me the way you are, it must be heaven."

 

"Not yet," I said. "We can work on it."

 

My eyes met Walter's. Whatever Alex wanted. Whatever he needed.

 

Alex smiled at us and said, "I give you both permission to spoil the hell out of me for the next few weeks."

 

"We'll see," Walter said. He stood up and said, "I'm going to find a bed, Mulder. You look as if you need one too."

 

Mark came in and took William. He said, "Follow me, Mr. Skinner. I can find a place for you and Mulder's friends.

 

I stood up, hugged Frohike, Langly, and Byers.

 

I think wherever Alex and I go, whatever happens, we will have a home, friends, and we'll make our happiness.

 

The Dead may walk, but I'm alive. Alex is alive. We're going to do a lot of living before we rest.

 

Tomorrow would bring the dawn of a new day; a day that much closer to the day that a dead body was a cause of mourning and never again of fear.

 

It's going to be a beautiful morning.

 

The end


End file.
